Disaster's Sweet Seduction
by RainynDawn
Summary: They were on the brink of losing everything. She uncovered a Horcrux but at a high price. Now she's in a place where hope first began to dwindle and ends up in a fight against disaster's sweet seduction in the form of Tom Riddle.
1. Chapter 1

**ONE**

_In order to get out of a predicament, you must use a level of thinking higher than that of which got you into the predicament in the first place._

_--Albert Einstein_

Darkness descended like a thick black blanket on the small village of Braxshire as the people extinguished their lights. Most were climbing into their warm beds, snuggling with their loved ones while the children slept peacefully without a worry in their head.

But if anyone would venture closer to these quaint houses outside of London, they would see a small golden light flickering in one of the windows on the second floor. Occasionally a shadow would glide by, pausing every now and then to cast a chary glance out into the darkness.

The house stood close to the end of the street and none of the villagers dared to go near it. Indeed, the house looked rather gruesome from the outside with the paint chipping away and large patches of the shingles missing. Weeds were threatening to take over the house while the shutters hung dangerously from a single hinge, some even falling to the ground below.

The villagers, if asked, would tell you how the house used to be the grandest on the block and, if you had a rather vivid imagination, you could almost see it. The people who used to reside there were exceedingly friendly by nature and kept their house in tip-top shape. Everyone loved them; not one person had an ill thing to say about them.

Yes, the Grangers of number seven Briar Street were the perfect neighbours.

Three years ago, all that had changed in a single night.

The neighbours had all greeted the Granger's only child- Hermione- when she arrived home from that private school in Switzerland that her parents were sending her to. She seemed like such a happy sixteen year old when she stopped by to chat, but some of them witnessed the sadness lurking in her eyes when she thought no one was looking. They wondered at that look.

She was only there for about a week before a strange young man with messy black hair and brilliant green eyes came to call on her. Being the good neighbours that they were, they slipped their curtains back just enough to watch as Hermione left- trunk in hand- with that unknown boy.

They wanted to ask, but refrained.

Only one week had passed before something completely strange happened within the house. It had been late at night when the neighbours had heard the intense screaming coming from within the house. They all scurried out of their beds to peek out of their windows.

What they were met with was simply unbelievable.

A strange white light flooded the house. Occasionally another odd colour would flash but would then quickly disappear. The screaming then stopped without warning as well as the light.

A Mr. Joseph Forrel was prodded by his wife to go over and explore the cause of all the commotion. He slipped on his robe and quietly exited his own private, safe house.

As his foot first touched the pavement outside, one tall man stepped from the Granger household. He wore a dark cloak that disguised his features perfectly…except his eyes.

Even from that distance, Mr. Forrel could see the sinister red eyes glowing in the night.

He watched as the man raised a long piece of dark wood into the air. A green stream of a smoky substance left the tip of the wood and shot into the air. The substance took shape, a skull with a hissing snake slithering from its mouth. It hung ominously over the house.

More neighbours had left their house to view this phenomenon, but Mr. Forrel was staring straight at the spot where the man had once stood. One moment he had been there and the next he had disappeared in a blink of the eye.

Without a second thought, Mr. Forrel bounded forward and barged into the house without taking time to knock. The sight he was greeted with was horrifying.

Mr. Granger lay in front of his wife on the parlour floor, his brown eyes now void of life wide open in terror. Mrs. Granger laid in a similar fashion, her one arm stretched out so that her hand lay against her husband's cheek.

The coroner could not give an exact cause of death. Nothing seemed wrong with them that could have caused their deaths. Since no clear description could be given on the strange man, there was no one the police could arrest for the murder of the two beloved dentists.

Two days later, Hermione returned with the two boys- one the same as before while the other had flaming red hair. Everyone watched from their windows as she walked straight back into the house with her head held high. The two boys followed her in slowly.

They were in there for only one hour which was surveyed closely by all the neighbours. Occasionally they would see a form drift in front of the window before disappearing again.

She left with only a few things in her hands with the two boys in tow. They walked down the street and turned the corner, disappearing from view. They hadn't seen her since.

Now it was three years later and the villagers were so used to the house that they paid no heed to the flicker of light from a beeswax candle in the window of the old Granger place. No one noticed it; they had turned their minds away from even thinking about the house.

However, someone was moving about on the second floor in a room that just happened to be in the spacious library. They were scurrying about from one side of the room to the other, grabbing books in a hurry while flipping hazardously through them.

"Come on…" 

The candle was beginning to grow weak as the wax burned out. Brown eyes darted quickly to the candle before returning to the book, scanning quickly.

"I know it's in here….somewhere…." 

Another book crashed to the floor as the figure ran to the other side of the room, grabbing a large tome. The pages flapped as the book was shook.

Tears, harsh bitter tears sprang to the figure's eyes as the body shook slightly with a large sob. The large hood fell back to reveal bushy brown hair and the tired face of Hermione Granger.

Her knees began to buckle as she slumped to the floor, her body slowly giving out due to all the stress she had been experiencing lately. Tears fell freely as she curled up, furious and demanding sobs racking her body.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to the night, not differentiating who the apology was meant for. It was for no one specific person; it was for the world.

She had failed both the magical and nonmagical worlds. "I am so sorry." 

The flame of the candle flickered out before she composed herself and rose from the hard floor. She brushed the tears from her face as she stood in the darkness of the room.

"I need help," she whispered as she looked over at the portrait on the wall. "I can't do this by myself." 

If anyone had seen her addressing the portrait, they would have thought her crazy, but this was no ordinary portrait. While the rest of the house was in tatters, this single portrait remained in pristine condition without a speck of dust on it. Stranger yet is the fact that most of the time- except for now of course- the portrait remained empty.

The old man with twinkling blue eyes that stood in the frame smiled kindly at her. "It is here, Hermione," the portrait of the late Headmaster spoke, "you just have to look. Take a deep breath and look where your heart, not your head, tells you to." 

Her eyes narrowed on him briefly before closing as she drew in a deep breath. The darkness swarmed her, suffocating her, drowning her in the dark pit.

Her eyes flashed open as she stepped closer to the portrait, her hand going out to lightly touch the dark frame. She ran her fingers along the smooth wood.

"He was scared of you." 

The words were spoken softly enough but they seemed to echo around the room. Her eyes flickered to meet the blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

"And yet he was able to overcome me." 

A small smirk appeared on her face as she considered his soft spoken statement. She began to shake her head. "No, he couldn't do it himself. He had to have someone else do it for him." 

As she spoke, her words began to slowly transform from neutral to hate. The events of her sixth year still struck a sore spot with her.

She had trusted Severus Snape, the formable Potions Master. For years she spoke up in his defence to her friends only to be proven wrong later. The man was evil and vile. He killed Dumbledore with a slight flick of his wand.

But he had paid for it later.

Harry had been with the group that finally caught up with him. Harry had no sympathy for the man. He was now in a high security cell in the bowels of the Ministry.

Hermione shook her head slightly as she took another step closer. "No, he couldn't do it himself and yet he felt a small victory over you." 

Dumbledore smiled at her from his portrait. His blue eyes surveyed her expectantly as her brown eyes moved over the newly crafted frame. His smile widened as she touched an abnormal knot in the bottom left hand corner.

"He likes power," she whispered, tracing the knot. "He embraces power and loves proving that he has complete control over other people." 

She pulled on the small knot, noticing that a hole had been drilled into the frame in which a small piece of wood had later been shoved into. She pulled out the small piece of wood and smiled triumphantly.

"Yes," she smirked, "he likes to leave reminders of his power." 

She pulled the aging slip of parchment out of the frame carefully, unrolling it to glance over it quickly. This was it; this is what they were searching for.

The calm settling in the air around her disappeared suddenly as the lights outside along the streets went out without warning. Darkness swallowed the small village of Braxshire as a pregnant silence wrapped around her like a thick cloak.

Hermione turned and rushed over to the window. A sea of Death Eaters were striding confidently up the street in her direction. In the lead was a tall figure. He was the only one of the group that did not war a mask to obscure his features.

Lord Voldemort.

She turned back from the window and quickly cast a look around the room. There was no time to clean up the mess she had made. She needed to get out of there quick.

She looked quickly towards the portrait of the late Headmaster. He seemed to sense what she needed in that moment. "Go," he ordered her softly as they heard spells start to hit the door downstairs.

She nodded as she closed her eyes and imagined the spot where she was supposed to meet Harry and Ron. She felt the familiar squeezing feeling of apparition before it quickly left. She blinked open her eyes to meet worried blue ones.

"Why can't I apparate?" she asked, her voice breaking with fear.

Though he was obviously worried, his voice remained calm as he spoke to her. "Just relax, Hermione. You're probably blocking the magical source needed for apparition. Just take a deep breath and relax. You have to be relaxed." 

Just then the sound of the front door crashing open echoed throughout the house. Tears were streaming from her eyes as she stared at the front door, her hand tightly clutching the slip of parchment.

"Hermione, relax!" Dumbledore ordered.

Hermione quickly closed her eyes and tried to apparate again, but found that she was once again unable too. She fell to her knees, her heart pumping loudly in her chest. "I can't," she muttered weakly. She looked up at the Headmaster. "They must've put up an anti-apparition ward." 

The footsteps were thundering up the stairs towards her. She stared at the door in unadulterated fear. Her mind flashed through pictures of her parents, her friends, her loved ones. She clutched the parchment tighter as time slowed around her.

One chance.

The last Horcrux.

Tom Riddle's Hogwarts Letter.

Harry was depending on her; the wizarding world was depending on her.

She had failed. One mission, one chance, and she had failed to complete it.

"Hermione," Dumbledore pleaded with her as the footsteps neared, "you have to get out of her. Get up and run. Harry is depending on you." 

She looked up at him, her eyes void of their normal sparkle. She was defeated in both mind and body as she kneeled there on the floor, shaking her head slowly from side to side. "There's no other way out," she whispered softly.

He simply stared at her as she resigned herself to her fate. The Horcrux still clutched in her hand served as the only reminder of her presence here.

"Destroy it, Hermione," he urged then. "Destroy it so that Harry can destroy him." 

She nodded and rose the parchment up as well as her wand. For Harry she would do this; for her late parents she would do this… 

The door to the library banged open as her worst fear stepped through the doorway, his red eyes flashing sinisterly. Behind him flocked his faithful followers, each with their wands trained on her as they advanced.

"Hermione Granger." 

The two words that comprised her name came out as more of a hiss as the being stepped closer to her. His eyes never left hers and, though he held his wand, it was not pointed at her.

"I've been hearing some rather interesting tales about you, Hermione Granger. Severus was merely one of many who spoke of your remarkable intelligence." 

Her brown eyes narrowed with hatred as he spoke calmly of her former Potions Master. Her thoughts flickered to the parchment she held in her hand. She was going to die anyways; she might as well destroy the Horcrux before he destroyed her.

One long, pale digit shot out to trace her cheek, coming to a rest just under her chin. He forced her head up so that she had to look at him.

"Amazing," he whispered while his eyes roamed the details of her face, "a full mind block. I have only met a few who are skilled and controlled enough to do one and usually it crumbles within the first few minutes." 

Hermione turned her face away; away from him, away from his eyes. He laughed, a bitter sound in the harsh silence of the room as it vibrated through her.

"Oh yes, your mind block is exceptional." he leaned forward, his face just a breath away from hers. "But your eyes, Hermione Granger, your eyes betray you." 

The corner of her lip twitched up in a sneer that could have rivaled Draco Malfoy's. "Did you honestly expect me to hide my contempt for you?" 

The Death Eaters close enough to hear drew in an enraged breath and raised their wands but their master only smirked at her. "Such passion in one so young. You can only be what? Nineteen?" He fingered a wild tendril. "I held the same passion in me when I was about that age." 

She chose not to respond which seemed only to serve to provide him further amusement. He rose back to his full imposing height and stared down at her.

"Yes, you are exactly as I imagined you to be: intelligent, passionate, as well as loyal. Tell me, Hermione Granger, do you love your friends so much that you'd be willing to die for them?" 

She didn't even need time to consider as she quickly answered, "Yes." 

The Death Eaters all laughed while Voldemort merely stared at her thoughtfully. She ignored them all; only the two of them existed at that moment.

Red and brown, two contrasting colours and yet they swirled together easily on the pallet before them.

"Yes," he finally said, cutting his Death Eater's laughter short, "I see that you would easily and willingly die for them." His gaze flickered down to the parchment in her hands. "Dying for them is a waste of yourself, Hermione, truly it is. You could do so much more." 

He turned and walked to the now empty picture frame where Albus Dumbledore previously stood. With a flick of his wand, the canvas burst into flames, the eerie glow of the flames dancing on the walls of the small room.

He turned back to her slowly once every trace of the portrait was gone. In a few short strides, he was standing directly in front of her once more.

"You are a mere sacrifice to them. Yes, they acknowledge your intelligence but you are nothing more to them than a brain when you could be so much more. They knew this was a death mission, your precious Dumbledore knew this was a death mission, and yet they still sent you." 

Tears were once again swimming in her eyes but she refused to allow them to fall in front of him. The sharp crack of his words against her skin hurt her much more than she cared to admit.

"No." 

It came out as a strangled sob, one which caused the masked men standing behind Voldemort to chuckle at her weakness. Her lower lip quivered slightly but she didn't look away from the man in front of her.

Lord Voldemort leaned down once more, his breath tickling her skin. "Throughout your school years, did your friends not use you for your intelligence? Did you not ensure that they would pass without trying that hard? Was it not your intelligence that allowed them to escape from some rather sticky situations? Was it not you that lied and covered for them?" 

She turned her head away from him then but he wrenched it back to face him. "And how about after school? I am told that you are the brains behind the Order now with Dumbledore is out of the way. Was I misinformed? Did you not personally figure out what the rest of my Horcruxes were and provide Potter with a detailed description of how to destroy them?" 

Her low lip quivered slightly once more as the biting sting of his words imbedded itself into her skin. He gently wiped away a tear as it fell from her eye.

"Am I wrong, Hermione?" 

She didn't want to answer him, couldn't answer him, so instead she looked up at him through misty eyes and softly asked, "Why?" 

A slow smirked formed on his face as he didn't' even try to misunderstand her inquiry. "It is rather simple really. Each of my Horcruxes represented power. I chose your house simply because I was determined to hold power over you." 

As he allowed his words to sink in, he rose to his full height, towering over her. His sinister eyes surveyed her as if she was a surprise. "However, it was all a delusion. You, I see now, will always have that stupid Gryffindor naivety. Even though they are willing to sacrifice you, in the end you are ready to sacrifice yourself for them." 

She turned her head slightly and closed her eyes as the tears dried, her will resolving itself in her as she considered his words. She was doing this for them…she just had to remember that… 

"Love is a weakness, Hermione Granger." 

As he raised his wand, her natural instincts kicked in and she raised the parchment up in front of her like a shield. As the beam of green light struck the parchment, an intense pain seared through her body.

The last thing she remembered before darkness clouded her world was red eyes filled with something she never thought possible of him… 

Panic.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: Alright, you caught me. My real name is JK Rowling and I have ventured into fanfiction in hope of redeeming myself in all your eyes for all the horrible things I've done (see killing Sirius, making Voldie lose, etc.)... So I... wait, what? Speak up man I can't hear you! Bloody lawyers, never hear a word...oh. Really? Well that sucks. Sorry folks, apparently I'm NOT JK Rowling and therefore have no claim over Harry Potter. Oh well. **

**Two**

_By three methods we may learn wisdom: First, by reflection, which is noblest; Second, by imitation, which is easiest; and Third by experience, which is the bitterest. --Confucius_

Far across the border and into the deep forest of Scotland lies a large fortress. Anyone who is able to view it feels compelled to take a moment to stare at it in awe. Only a few are able to view it, though, for many security features are in place to protect it.

Built a long, long time ago, this amazing citadel shines with a magical aura. Four founders with a common dream constructed this bastion.

Tall columns raise high above the tree tops, a wide lake stretches out across the front. Beauty and splendour create an elegant mix as year after year, many travel to stay at this place where anything and everything is possible.

Hogwarts- a school for witchcraft and wizardry.

Now, though, in the month of July, no students flocked the school. The corridors were void of the normal chatter. Instead, there was the quiet musings of the portraits. A few teachers lingered about in the school as well, though they mostly stayed off school grounds.

Up in the top most office of the school sat two very different men. One wore a rather exquisite robe of deep magenta; the other wore more sensible robes of midnight blue. They were talking amongst themselves but every now and then a portrait would add their opinion to the conversation.

"Yes, yes, very well," the more sensible man said with a wave of his hand.

"Are you sure about this?" asked the other.

"Yes, I am positive. I have thought this through completely."

"And the school governors agreed?"

The one man smiled. "There really wasn't much choice for them. You are the best choice for the position after all."

"I appreciate this chance."

"Yes, well, you've earned it."

"Thank you."

"So, I take it you accept?"

"Of course I do."

The man in midnight blue stood and shook the hand of the other man. "Well, I'll just leave it to you then. I wish you the best of luck."

"Thank you."

The first man swept out of the office leaving the man in magenta robes to walk over and sit behind the large desk for the first time. He merely sat there, fingers tapping against the smooth mahogany wood in thought.

At an impressive height of six foot six, the man was in no way formidable. Indeed, his rather cheerful disposition put most at ease around him. Almost everyone who knew him liked him and would agree that he deserved the position he was just given.

But as he sat there, he was well aware of the mistakes he had made, some choices he now regretted in the light of a new day. There were secrets that were hidden behind his cobalt eyes, secrets he wished never to divulge…

The portraits were studying him closely as he stood and walked to the window. A familiar…yes that was what he needed for his office. Something to liven it up just a tad and make it his. A cat maybe…

With a small smile on his face, the man made his way down the spiral stairs of the Headmaster's office, turning at the bottom in the direction of the main doors.

**o!o**

Bitter wind whipped through the tall trees as the sun slowly sank below the western horizon, darkness threatening to swallow the sky. A wolf howled in the dark bowels of the forest, the sound echoing slightly.

Green verses red.

Dark green grass…crimson red blood.

The last ounce of light cast a shadow over a solitary figure sprawled hazardously across the green grass. Dried blood caked all visible skin, pooling out onto the grass.

Nothing identified this unconscious person. Plain black robes hugged the figure but that was all- no change purse, no work identification- only robes. In the right hand was a wand; in the left a single crisp sheet of parchment.

The landscape directly around gave no clue as to the location, but if you pulled back slightly, it was quite evident that it was the Scottish countryside.

As the wind picked up, the figure stirred slightly, a painful groan emitting from the depths of the body. Female…a woman with dark brown hair coated with blood.

"Oh bloody hell…"

Her hand dropped the wand as it shot to grasp her head, her eyes scrunching up against the loud throbbing in her head. Moving only seemed to make it worse.

Then, ignoring the pain coursing through her body, she sat up in a snap. Her hands touched her cheeks, her chest, her legs. She held her hands up in front of her face, staring at them in wonder.

"I'm alive," she whispered. "I'm alive…"

That's when the pain made itself known to her. Intense pain…a thousand knives were stabbing her all over while iron hot rods prodded at her skin.

She doubled over as tears flooded her eyes. She felt the blood on her skin and the loss of it within. The world was starting to grow hazy as she tried to grasp the last ounce of reality she could.

That's when she saw it, a figure walking along the landscape. A silhouette, that's all it was, but that alone gave her a bit of hope.

She stretched out her hand towards her wand but it remained just out of her reach. Frustrated, she lurched forward, landing on the ground with a painful thud. But she got her wand.

The thought of friend or foe briefly entered her mind, but the pain overrode any rational thought she had at the moment.

Red sparks emitted from the tip of the wand, shooting into the air. Her remaining strength slowly left her as she saw the silhouette turn to her.

Black invaded her as the figure approached rapidly and she gave herself up to the darkness. Closing her eyes, she slumped on the ground and promptly passed out.

**o!o**

White.

Blinding white light.

Hermione groaned and twisted her head to the side, trying to escape the white light that was threatening to suffocate her. But she couldn't escape it; it blocked her on all four sides.

White, the sterile white of a hospital flooded her from all around.

Her eyes slowly blinked open to the onset of white…too much white. The scene in front of her swam just a bit before settling down. Her stomach gave a violent lurch before it, too, settled down. She felt weak and sick but at least she was alive.

Yes, thank Merlin for small miracles.

She hefted herself up into a sitting position, propping herself up against the headboard. Only then did she take in her surroundings.

White walls, many white beds, potions of various colours…Dear Merlin, she _was_ in the Hospital Wing, one that greatly resembled the one at Hogwarts.

But that wasn't possible…

Voldemort destroyed the school a year ago.

She turned her head and paused. On the bedside table two beds away sat a Daily Prophet. It was flipped so she couldn't read the front but it looked relatively new. She looked around; no one was around so it would it really hurt to take a look at it?

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She stood, stumbling slightly as she did so. When she almost tumbled over, she had to grasp the edge of the bed to regain balance. Once she had accomplished that small task, she stumbled over on two wobbly feet to grab the paper, snapping it open to reveal the front page.

The rasping sound of crinkled parchment echoed through the room as she dropped the paper, her eyes wide with shock. Slowly, she lowered herself to the floor beside the discarded paper.

_July 11, 1947_

The date…1947. That was three years after Tom Riddle had graduated from Hogwarts. Three years after the root of all evil was released into the world.

Bloody hell.

Could this be a mistake? It was possible that someone had just found a copy of the Daily Prophet from that year and left it lying around. Yes, it must be a mistake.

But even as she was thinking that, she knew it wasn't a mistake. She _knew_ she was in the Infirmary which wasn't standing in 1999. Somehow she had managed to get herself sent back into the past…

The Horcrux!

Where was the Horcrux? She knew she had still been holding it when she was in the forest, but where was it now? Oh dear Merlin, what if the wrong person had found her and snatched the Horcrux. Oh Merlin, she was screwed. That Horcrux was the last one and needed to be…

She stopped mid-thought, cocking her head to the side. There had been charms on the Horcrux, she knew that. Powerful charms meant to protect it, but he had been the one to strike it with a hex.

She laughed suddenly, her hand running through her wild hair. Of course…the connection of the spell and the charm took her back to right after the Horcrux was created…

Tom Riddle was making the transition from boy to monster.

She stood suddenly, her legs wobbling slightly as she cast a look around for something to pull on. She needed to get out of here…she had to stop him for the sake of the future…

"Going somewhere?"

The voice made her pause, her back to the door and ultimately to the speaker. Turning slowly, she was faced with a young looking man with rich auburn hair and a slightly darker shade beard. She knew without asking that this man was Albus Dumbledore.

"Yes," she answered automatically, "I need to leave."

He motioned towards the bed. "Why don't you have a seat?"

She stared at him. Mistrust shined behind his blue eyes. She couldn't blame him really. She had shown up without any warning, on death's door, and she was obviously an outsider.

She considered briefly of telling him the whole truth but quickly decided against that notion. This was her mission alone and she needed to complete it on her own.

"I'm quite sorry, sir, for any trouble I have caused you," she said quickly, still standing, "but I really must be going. I'd appreciate it if you would return my belongings to me," she paused, "all of them."

He stepped towards her and lowered himself into a chair, once again motioning to the bed. His blue eyes merely observed her patiently, waiting. With an indignant huff, she took a seat on the bed and engaged in a staring contest.

Finally, "Let me start by asking your name."

"Hermione," she answered without pause. When he continued to stare at her expectantly, she said, "That is all until I learn yours."

A mere technicality really since she already knew that fact, but he didn't know that. As long as he thought her a stranger, her secrets were safe and that's how she intended on keeping them.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore and I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts." He smiled. "Actually, today is my official first day as Headmaster."

So he just did get the position? That meant Tom Riddle would be coming to inquire about the Defence Against the Dark Arts position soon. Interesting…

"Congratulations. My last name is Granger."

"Alright Hermione Granger, why don't you enlighten me as to how you arrived here in your previous condition." He paused after that and she knew what was coming. "And how you came to have Mr. Tom Riddle's Hogwarts acceptance letter."

"To your first inquiry, I was in a battle and unfortunately was injured." Not a complete lie if you considered twenty plus Death Eaters and Voldemort against her a battle. A bit unfair but still a battle. "As to your second, I'm afraid I cannot answer that."

"Can't or won't?"

She smirked. "Both," she replied honestly.

He shifted slightly, his blue eyes never once leaving her. She knew he was deciding whether she was friend or foe and that she should really tell him the truth, but for some reason she thought that she should really do this on her own. This was her mission and hers alone.

"I really do need to get going, sir, and I'm afraid that I'm going to need that acceptance letter too." She stared at him, unmoving as he stood, pacing in front of her. She sat up straighter; she must not show any weakness in her resolve.

"I'm afraid I cannot give you back the acceptance letter but I will give you back your other belongings. I will have them sent…"

"I cannot leave until you give me that letter, sir," she interrupted. She met his blue eyes head on. "It is vital that I walk out of here with that letter."

"Are you in trouble, Miss Granger, for I can help you or get you help."

She smiled slightly as she shook her head. "No, I'm afraid that I can only work alone on this." She stood and walked over to the window. "I know I'm being evasive but you're just going to have to trust that my need is genuine. Please."

"Miss Granger, you do understand the position I'm in? You were found almost dead on school grounds with only a wand and Mr. Riddle's acceptance letter. If I were to follow the regulations, I am dictated to hand you over to the Ministry for questioning."

Hermione smiled at him slowly. "You do not look like a person that always follows the rules." She turned briefly to the window. "Nor do you strike me as a man controlled by the Ministry."

That caused him to smile. "Indeed not."

"Look, I can promise you that I have a very good reason for having that acceptance letter in my possession, but I can't tell you. I really need to…"

"Do you have a place to stay, Miss Granger?"

"Er…no…"

"Do you have a job?"

"Yes…I mean, I used to."

His eyebrows rose quizzically. "Then where do you expect to go with minimal money and no place to stay?"

"If you could just provide me with my belongings, I assure you that I'll be just fine," she replied tartly.

"I'm sure that you are capable of handling yourself, but why don't you allow me to set up a job interview for you with the Ministry. You can stay here until you find a place to stay."

"Thank you but I really should be…"

He held up his hand to stop her. "I insist, Miss Granger. Stay here for a few days until you find other more permanent housing. I'm sure the Ministry will be able to help you find a house."

She realized that she really had no choice in the matter and that if she wanted that letter, she shouldn't argue with him. He would get his way anyways. "Yes, sir, I appreciate your help."

Dumbledore walked over and clapped her shoulder. "I will send someone in later with your belongings. In the meantime, I'll have a room set up for you and arrange an interview with the Ministry. I know they have some positions open."

"Thank you," she repeated as she turned and walked back to the bed and took a seat on it. She fingered the sheet while he swept from the room. She was left with only one thought in her head.

What now?

**o!o**

Two weeks had passed. Hermione now had a good job within the Ministry and was looking for a place to stay. This was why she was currently standing in a rather shady part of town staring up at a decrepit building.

This was where her supposed 'dream' flat was?

With a slightly groan, she stepped inside the building, noticing the state of the place. A balding man about a head shorter than her came running out of a nearby room.

"Ah, you must be the new tenant."

She hesitated, her eyes glancing about nervously. "Actually, I'm just here to look the place over. I haven't made any permanent decisions yet."

"Yes, well, I'm sure once you see your room; you won't be able to say no."

The confidence in his voice shocked her and she briefly wondered whether they were seeing the same place. After seeing her rooms, she doubted she'd say yes.

She followed the man up the rickety staircase, ignoring the leering eyes of some of the portraits. Really, some of the kitsch comments they made were shocking and she wanted nothing more than to set their frames on fire right then and there.

"Don't worry about them," the man told her, "once you move in here, they won't say anything else to you."

She didn't know which she doubted more- that they'd ever stop making the rude comments or that she would ever set foot in this building again.

"Here we are," the small man announced. "There are only two flats on this floor. You're on the right."

Hermione glanced briefly at the door before looking back to Mr…Mr…did he even tell his name? She didn't think so. Oh well, she was sure she'd find out when the rent came due.

"Thank you," she mumbled, stepping past him when he held the door open for her. She was quite surprised at what laid before her.

Clearly, magic was the most spectacular thing ever.

Inside the confines of the walls lied a gloriously decorated room in rich brown colours, creating a comfortable feel in the room. There was a dark brown couch sitting in the middle with matching chairs off to the side a bit. There was even a fireplace!

"So, what do you think?"

Hermione was startled. She had forgotten that he had followed her into the room and was now waiting on her opinion. "It's," she hesitated, trying to figure out what to say, "wow."

He smirked confidently. "I told you you'd like it."

She nodded, stepping further into the room. "That you did."

She walked through the sitting room and into the kitchen, immediately falling in love with the light and dark contrast. She ran her finger along the black island. "Oh, I love this."

"The whole flat is done with neutral colours, but you can change anything you don't like as long as you change it back if you decide to leave," he explained as they continued the tour.

"I probably won't change much, if anything. It's quite lovely."

"Yes," he agreed with a smile, "it is, isn't it?"

When they reached the bedroom, she turned to him quickly. "I'll take it."

He held out his hand and she shook it. "Pleasure to do business with you."

**o!o**

Hermione lugged the large box up the stairs. She only had two boxes- one which contained all books, the one she was currently carrying. She had yet to purchase a lot of items she needed; she planned on doing that tomorrow on her second day off.

"Oomph," she cried as she ran into a step. She couldn't really see over the box and she was being stubborn by refusing to use magic to get it up there. "Oh bugger," she muttered as she felt the middle of the box start to split along the crease.

She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable crash…

But it never came.

Instead, she felt magic surging through the box, lifting it up into the air. She stared at it for a moment as it floated in the air before glancing around it to see a figure standing at the top of the stairs.

The first thing out of her mouth was something a normal minded Hermione wouldn't say. "Who are you?"

He rolled his eyes as he leaned back against the doorframe and sighed. "Is that the thanks I get for helping you with a box that you were obviously too dim to use magic on?"

Indignantly she placed her hands on her hips as she narrowed her eyes on him. "For your information, I _chose_ not to use magic. I don't think it's healthy to be dependent on magic."

"Maybe not," he returned, "but sometimes it doesn't hurt to use magic." He glanced at the box before looking back to her. "Are you really telling me that you'd rather carry that heavy box instead of accepting a little magical help from me?"

She looked from him to the box. Time to swallow her pride. "No, I'm very gracious for your help. Thank you."

He smirked triumphantly. "See there, it really wasn't that hard."

She fought back her remark and instead followed her floating box to the top of the stairs. He directed it into her open door and only then did she realize he must be the occupant of the next door flat.

He turned away sharply to enter his flat but faced her once again at the last second, his brilliant green eyes scrutinizing her closely.

"By the way, the name's Tom Riddle."


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: You know the drill: I don't own it, yada yada yada...I don't receive any profits, yada yada yada...and so on and so forth...**

**All bow to my all wonderful beta: Curse Weaver**

**Three**

_Character can not be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved. --Helen Keller_

_In conclusion, the basis of the argument draw in the report filed with the Department of Dangerous Creatures concerning the newly established laws about the treatment of dangerous beasts should be taken into consideration. The committee residing over the previous cases provided inadequate information that went unchallenged at the time. However, as more information is made available, certain groups such as the one that filed the report are challenging…_

Hermione rubbed her eyes as she sat the quill down on the desk. Once upon a time she would have rejoiced at being asked to this type of work, but now she found it a total bore. Maybe it was because it was all they ever asked her to do since her employment here three weeks ago.

B-O-R-I-N-G.

She threw down the pad and stood from her chair, grabbing her jacket. She waved to her supervisor as she hurried out of the office. She still had another fifteen minutes before lunch but she didn't care. She had to get out of there.

Walking down to the atrium, she flooed to the Leaky Cauldron for her daily lunch ritual. She was craving the vegetable beef soup that Alan (Tom's predecessor) made. He added some sort of spice for flavour and she absolutely loved it.

Alan smiled at her when she stepped from the fireplace and immediately came around the bar with a cup of tea and a bowl of soup in hand. "Out early today, Hermione?"

Hermione smiled at him. She had been coming here for lunch since she got her job at the Ministry. "It was getting a little bit boring so I decided to leave and take my lunch early."

He laughed heartily as he sat the food in front of her. "I think if I worked for the Ministry, I'd be bored too. It just seems so…."

"Boring," Hermione stated simply.

He opened his mouth to respond but someone called his name from across the room. "I got to go." He turned but paused. "Take it easy, Hermione. If the job isn't right for you, then it'll never be."

His words lingered there long after he had left. He was right, she knew, but considering she was way out of her time and so she really didn't have that much of a choice.

"Ah, if it isn't my new neighbour," a voice drawled from behind her and she stiffened in her seat. She knew that voice. She had been wondering what to do about that voice for a week.

He, meaning Tom Riddle, didn't wait for an invitation but instead just took a seat. He smirked across the table at her. "Did you get your boxes unpacked?"

She wiped her mouth with a napkin before responding tartly, "Considering it's been a week and that I only had two boxes, yes."

"First, sometimes people don't even get unpacked in a month," he retorted easily. "And second, I didn't know you only had two boxes."

"Well now you do," she said as she took a sip of her tea. He was watching her closely, his eyes never once leaving her as he just sat there. "What?"

He shrugged. "Just wondering why you only have two boxes of possessions, one of which only contained books."

She sat her cup down with a snap. "Alright, how did you know that?"

"It was rather obvious from the weight." He smirked. "Plus the top of the box was open slightly. Now, stop being evasive and tell me why you have only two boxes."

Her brow rose. "Is it really any of your business?"

"Yes," he answered without hesitation.

She sighed, realizing that he wasn't going to let up until she answered him. "I wanted as few reminders as possible of my past." Not really a lie…

"And where exactly does your past lie?" His green eyes bore into hers as she studied her from across the table. "Where is the mysterious place you hail from?"

She found herself smiling slightly at his prying. "Nowhere really."

He leaned back in his seat. "Come now, everyone comes from somewhere."

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him. "Do you like to talk about your past?"

"Of course not."

"Then why do you really think I would like to talk about my past?"

That stopped him. He hadn't been expecting her to turn it back on him. He observed her pointedly, his eyes never once leaving hers.

She got the feeling that he was trying to read her mind, but she parried him with a firm mind block. Of course she didn't make it obvious that she was blocking him. Instead she made it seem as if she was merely clear of mind.

"Alright, neighbour, we will let the past lie behind us," he drawled finally. "Let us move onto more neutral territory. You can start by telling me your name."

Hermione mentally laughed. "Please, you probably discovered my name before I even moved into the building. However, let us observe niceties. My name is Hermione Granger."

He bowed his head in acknowledgement, the corner of his lip twitching upward into a smile. "Pleased to meet you, Hermione Granger. As I told you before, my name is Tom Riddle."

She didn't say anything in response. Instead, she picked up her cup of tea and took a long sip, staring at him over the rim. She set the cup back down and wiped her mouth with the napkin. He was staring at her with an intensity that worried her slightly.

"I'm guessing you want to know more," she commented lightly.

"But of course." He did smile now. "I am told you work in the Ministry."

"My, my, you do have your little spies, don't you?" she said lightly enough but they both sensed the sharp edge beneath her voice. "Yes, I do actually."

"In what department?"

She smiled ruefully. "I'm more of a Jane of all trades so to speak. They keep giving me busy work. Actually, if you've been listening to the speeches made lately, I wrote all of them."

"All?" he asked in awe.

"All," she confirmed. "They're a complete bunch of imbeciles." After a slight hesitation, she added, "I doubt they'll ever change. They'll always be pompous airbags."

He laughed freely. "My, my, you are a feisty one, aren't you?" He grinned his approval. "I'm glad to see you share my opinions on the uselessness of the Ministry…"

"I never said the Ministry was useless," she interrupted quickly. "I think the concept of the Ministry is good. I merely think that the people within the Ministry are useless."

His eyes flared with the promise of an argument. However, she had no intention of arguing with him. So she rose, threw some coins down on the table, and wrapped her cloak around her.

"I'm afraid I must get back to those imbeciles less they die without my guide. Goodbye Tom Riddle. Have a good day."

She glided out before he could say another word. Smiling with triumph, she apparated back to the Ministry and back to the hassle of life.

**o!o**

It was a simple fact of life that you often had to do things that you didn't like and didn't want to do. Sometimes, life just sucked like that.

Hermione was sure as she flung herself down on the couch after five that evening that someone was trying to punish her. She didn't know what she did to who or when, but she was sure that she had to of done something to deserve this sort of karma.

Life sucked.

She was now almost positive that the workers at the Ministry had never been smart, especially those put in charge. Though they were just recovering from the war with Grindlewald, they still could have some semblance of order.

Yet it took everything she had just to keep everything in order and not let them mess up all her hard work. Usually she failed.

Her stomach gave a loud growl, proclaiming its hunger, but she ignored it. She didn't feel like cooking at the moment. Maybe later.

She closed her eyes with ever intention of getting some rest, but fate once again proved to be out for her. There was a steady knock at her door.

With a groan, she rolled over with every intention on ignoring it. But her visitor refused to be ignored. There were three more knocks, each more persistent than the last.

"Oh bugger it all," she muttered darkly before screaming, "just come in already!"

There was a slight pause of silence before she heard the door creak open. She flung her arm over her eyes as the footsteps neared her.

"Is it really wise to invite a complete stranger into your domain?"

Him.

"Is it really wise to pester an irritated woman?" she riposted, moving her arm just a bit to glare up at him. She moved her hand that laid at her side to display that her wand was, in fact, in reach if she needed it.

"I take it work was a bore," he drawled, perching himself on the arm right beside her head. "You look horrible."

She grunted. "You sure do know how to give a compliment," she drawled sarcastically. She moved her hand back to look at him. "What do you want, Tom?"

"Dinner," he stated simply.

"Forget it," she said instantly, "there is no way I'm cooking at the moment. I suggest you find a good restaurant and have fun."

He smirked. "I have every intention of going out to eat," he paused, "and taking you with me. The restaurant is semi-fancy so you…"

"Tom," she interrupted, "I'm irritated, tired, and fed up with people at the moment. I don't feel like going out tonight. Please, though, go out and eat."

He stared at her for a second or two before turning on his heel and leaving her flat. She gave a small sigh of relief and shut her eyes again. They snapped open, though, when the door opened again.

She sat up quickly to see Tom with an armload of stuff strolling confidently toward her kitchen. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, clambering to her feet.

He sent her an impatient look. "I'm cooking." When she merely stared at him, he shook his head. "Don't worry, you can return the favour sometime."

"But I don't want you to cook for me," she stammered.

His brow quirked. "You'd rather starve?"

"Well…no."

"Then lay down and I'll retrieve you when it's done," he ordered, dismissing her when he turned and strolled into the kitchen, leaving her there gaping.

Finally she regained her senses and stalked after him. "Look, I'm really not all that hungry at the moment and I'm sure there are others who'd love to have dinner with you, but…"

He turned around with an impatient huff. "Am I going to have to put a body binding curse on you to get you to leave me alone so I can cook our supper? I'm more than willing to do just that."

"No," she answered reluctantly, turning slightly to head back to the sitting room. On second though, she paused, "Why are you even doing this?"

"Besides the fact that I'm hungry," he answered calmly, busying himself with setting ingredients out, "I figure why dine alone when I can dine with you." He looked up and smirked. "Besides, this way I can question you further."

She rolled her eyes as she turned away, muttering, "We'll see about that." loud enough for him to hear. His surprisingly warm laughter followed her.

**o!o**

Dinner, amazingly, was wonderful. Hermione discovered him to be a great cook and enjoyed one of her first good meals in weeks…though she would never admit that to him, of course.

Hermione remained on guard during the meal. She neatly side-stepped any question that he asked that would give something away without seeming _too_ evasive. Tom did seem a bit put out though.

When she finally cleaned her plate of the last morsel, she stood and picked up their dishes, heading straight towards the kitchen. She didn't expect him to follow her, but he did.

He stood silently by the door, his eyes never once leaving her. She refused to allow herself to be unnerved by his steady stare, but it was hard. Finally, the dishes were completely washed and she turned, grabbing the towel to wipe her hands dry before turning to face him. "Thank you."

He nodded his head slightly. "My pleasure."

She didn't notice until too late that she was trapped; he stood in the way of her only exit. She surveyed him with growing agitation as he merely stared at her. "You know, usually people talk to each other, not just stare."

He smirked. "Why, my dear neighbour, I wasn't the only one staring." He took a few confidant steps towards her, closing the distance between them. "But, if you feel the need for conversation, tell me, what do you wish to talk about? The weather perhaps? Or maybe you would prefer to have a friendly debate over politics."

"They're both rather boring topics." she commented.

His eyebrow quirked at about the same time he stopped in front of her. Reaching out a hand, he fingered a lone tendril that had escaped her ponytail. "The ball is in your court, what do _you_ want to talk about?"

She cocked her head to the side, removing the curl from his grasp. "Let's talk about you. You can't be more than- what?- twenty-one? Twenty-two?"

"Twenty, actually," was his response.

"Alright, so you've been out of Hogwarts for two years now," she commented after doing some mental calculations. "Where do _you_ work? What do _you_ do?"

He smirked just a bit as he propped his hip against the counter, though still he blocked her only escape. "Interested?" He didn't' wait for her to respond as he continued, "I work in a small shop in Knockturn Alley. I plan on checking on the DADA position, though."

"Hmm," was her response. She knew from what Harry had shared with her that he wouldn't get the position. Dumbledore wouldn't give it to him even if he was the last person available to undertake the position.

He studied her for a minute and she stared right back at him. She was sure to keep her mind clear. She wasn't sure whether he was trying to read her or not but she wasn't about to take the chance. She wouldn't give him anything to use against her later.

He reached out suddenly, touching her cheek. "See you tomorrow, Hermione," he whispered before turning and walking out of the flat, shutting the door behind him.

Hermione stood still for a moment or two before releasing the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, her shoulders slumping.

Oh Merlin, she was getting in too deep.

**o!o**

It actually wouldn't be till five days later that she would see Tom again. Actually, she heard him before she saw him. It sounded as if he was doing a number on his flat.

Cautiously, she made her way over to his door and entered without knocking. Not a smart idea, she realized half a second later when she found a wand shoved in her face.

She quirked a brow when he questioned, "Hermione?"

"No, the milk man." She pushed his wand away and strolled past him. Surveying the damage coolly, she flicked her wand and watched as the room was restored to its original state. Looking back at him, she merely said, "You can carry on now."

He glanced at her suspiciously before flicking his wand, causing a statue to explode. She just leaned back against the door, crossed her arms, and watched as he destroyed his flat…again.

She restored the room three more times before he finally decided he was done and let her restore the room for the final time. He was panting by this time and sweat beaded his forehead.

"Bad day?" she inquired.

His eyes narrowed briefly before he visibly relaxed, slumping against the wall. Then, he started laughing. His head fell back as he laughed, his eyes closing. She couldn't help it, she found herself chuckling along with him.

Finally, he regained control and looked at her, a weird look in his eyes. "Thank you."

She nodded her head. "You're welcome." She watched as he shoved off the wall and approached her. He leaned on the wall directly beside her, his face close to hers.

She told herself to not pull back, to hold strong. She found that it wasn't all that hard, though, which actually frightened her quite a bit. Indeed, she found herself drawn to the dark, forest green orbs.

"It looks as if I won't be working at Hogwarts," he commented lightly enough but she felt the tension beneath his words. "Dumbledore rejected me."

Despite herself, she found herself whispering, "I'm sorry."

He nipped her under the chin with his finger. "It's alright; it's not your fault." He drew in a sharp breath and lowered his head a bit. "If I'm honest with myself, I didn't expect to get the position…not with Dumbledore in charge now."

She smiled slightly and reached out to take his hand. "His loss, right? There must be other things you can find to do if you don't want to continue working at Borgin and Burkes."

His eyes narrowed as she realized her mistake too late. "How did you know where I worked?"

Thinking fast, she smirked. "Please," she scoffed, "did you honestly believe that you were the only one with spies?"

He stared at her for a moment or two before chuckling softly, leaning towards her. "Never had a woman spy on me before."

She quirked a brow. "How do you know I wasn't having you watched?"

"Is there a difference?"

"A large one."

He paused for a moment, considering her. "I don't." He leaned closer to her, his lips almost touching hers. "But for some strange reason I find myself trusting you."

"Never trust someone who you don't know," she chided.

His lips were now hovering against hers. "Hmm, at the moment I think I'll take the risk." His lips descended upon hers then, just lightly enough to pull her out of her daze. She pulled her head back and placed her hand between their lips.

With a smirk, she stated, "Forget it, Riddle, you're going to have to do better than that," before leaving his flat, the door closing with a definite snap.

**A/N: Sorry it took so long...have had a lot of stuff to think about and really no time for this at the moment so yeah... If you're reading Whispers, the update won't be for another couple of days...Have to sort some things out with it first...**

**As always, thanks for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: Still can't claim that I own it...**

**All hail my wonderful beta: Curse Weaver (aka my adopt-a-mummy)...**

**Four**

_Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within. --James Baldwin_

The rich smell of old leather lingered in the air as Hermione stood in the middle of the bookstore in Diagon Alley. She smiled as she closed her eyes, allowing the aroma to wrap around her, filling her senses.

She was _supposed_ to be shopping to finish stocking her flat…and yet as soon as she saw the bookstore, she found she couldn't ignore the persistent call. And so she had gone in just to browse around, or that is what she kept telling herself.

She felt people brushing past her and she opened her eyes, taking in the scene around her. She moved forward, heading down the first aisle of books. She extended her arm and allowed her fingertips to brush along the rough spines. Her books…her precious books… her one connection to her own time.

She paused at the end to observe the titles scripted on the spines. She shook her head- all the books were on heroic tales of various wizards- and rounded the corner only to run into someone.

"Oomph," she said as she bounced off the body. "I'm sorry."

"It's quite alright," came a warm, husky voice as the man reached out to steady her.

She looked up and promptly gasped. The man standing in front of her could have been Sirius' twin. Dark black hair gracefully around a sculpted face while rich grey eyes stared intensely at her.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, bending down slightly so he could stare straight into her eyes, "but do I know you?"

She smiled, shaking her head. "No, sorry." She drew in a deep breath and said, "You just remind me of someone I used to know." She took a step back. "Again, I'm sorry that I bumped into you. I should have been paying more attention to where I was going."

As she went to back away, realizing that she was babbling, his hand shot out to grasp her arm. "Whoa, hold up there for a minute, lovey." He smiled down at her. "Now, seeing as you bumped into me, you could tell me your name."

Her eyes scanned him. Couldn't hurt, could it? After all, the future Dark Lord was her next door neighbour. "Hermione Granger."

His smile brightened. "A pretty name for a pretty lady," he drawled in a husky tone. He picked up one of her hands and, bowing over it, pressed a kiss to the back of it. "Name's Cygnus Black, but everyone calls me Cy." He grinned roguishly. "Cygnus is a bit of a mouthful."

She laughed. "That's true I guess. Cy it is then." She turned to look at the books and then back at him, brow raised. "You're interested in Herbology?"

He leaned back slightly and crossed his arms. "And if I am?"

She shrugged dispassionately. "Nothing, you just don't strike me as a Herbology type of man."

His laughter was rich, though she conceded that it didn't hold the same power as Tom's. "I'm glad that I don't look like a 'Herbology type of man,'" he said. "Actually, I need a book to help me with my studies."

"Oh?"

"I'm trying to go into a particular branch of the medical field," he informed her. "At the moment we're studying the different effects plants have on injuries and trying to see whether certain plants work better than others in healing." He grinned broadly. "It's fascinating really."

"I can imagine." She turned to the bookshelf and scanned it quickly. Her hand shot out as she plucked a book from the shelf. "Here, this should contain some useful information. The section on the various uses of belladonna is particularly interesting, but you might want to pay attention to the sections on thyme and wolfsbane."

His brows shot up. "You study Herbology?"

She grinned and started to walk away. Like Tom, he followed close behind her, watching her. "I study many things. I find knowledge to be extremely useful."

"Too true," he said as he watched her scan the shelves, looking for a book. "So, what exactly do you do? You're not a researcher, are you?"

She gave off a bitter laugh. "That's not the title of the job but it might as well be. I work for the Ministry and basically I do anything they can't or are just too lazy to do."

"Interesting job description," he commented jokingly, "catering to a bunch of bumbling fools."

Hermione turned to him with a wicked smile. "I know, isn't it?"

She extracted a book from the shelf and examined it while he continued to study her. "You know, you don't look that old and yet I'm sure I haven't seen you before. I would have remembered it if I had. Did you go to Hogwarts?"

She shoved the book back into its place and grabbed another one. "Actually, no. I came from far away and I doubt I'll ever go back." She glanced up at him out of the corner of her eye. "If you don't mind, I don't like to talk about it."

He stared at her and then nodded. "Alright."

She clapped her hand on the book in decision. "I think I'll purchase this one."

He plucked the book from her hands and stared at the cover. "_Magical Properties of the Soul_," he read aloud. "Huh, very interesting…and an odd choice." He glanced up at her. "For an assignment?"

"Light reading," she corrected with a slight smile.

His brow quirked again. "Alright then," he drawled slowly with a small chuckle. She recognized the look on his face as one Harry and Ron usually wore when laughing at her studious habits. He winked at her roguishly and stalked away, taking her book with him.

"Hey!" she cried, hurrying after him. "I need my book so that I can pay for it!" She tried to snatch the book back from him but he easily prevented her from doing so. "Come on, Cy, I need to finish shopping for my flat."

"Then quit hindering me and let me pay for it," he told her as he placed the two books on the checkout counter. "My treat. Think of it as sort of a 'welcome to the neighbourhood' sort of gift."

She sighed dramatically and attempted to glare at him. "You're impossible."

He sent her a impish grin. "I've been told that once or twice."

He paid for her book and then refused to give it back to her. He insisted on joining her on her shopping excursion and secretly she was glad for the company. She hated shopping with a passion so company was appreciated.

She took his arm without thinking when he offered it, subconsciously leaning towards her. He reminded her of Sirius and, to her, Sirius represented safety. She needed that small ounce of safety, she thirsted for it.

They were about to enter a store with odd knickknacks when Hermione looked up and met a pair of dark green eyes. She froze, causing Cy to stumble slightly. For some reason, she felt a twinge of regret and guilt.

"Hermione," he greeted and then, "Cygnus." His eyes were narrowed on the other man.

Cy pulled away from her suddenly and she saw him fumbling for a way to greet Tom. Finally, she watched as he merely nodded his head in acknowledgement. She guessed that Tom was already going by the title of Lord Voldemort.

Tom turned back to her and smiled. "Shopping?"

"You're the one that pointed out that I only had two boxes, I thought I should obtain some more possessions before you start complaining about my flat being bare." She stared at him steadily, daring him to challenge her.

He merely smirked. "You're flat is homely. Besides, after seeing your talent, I wouldn't dare to challenge you." It wasn't his choice of words that caused her to shiver, it was the way he said it.

His gaze then shifted to Cy. "Your oldest brother requires your assistance. I believe he is with Abraxas at the Hog's Head waiting for you. I would hurry along if I were you."

Cy glanced at her quickly before walking off without even saying goodbye. She felt betrayed in a way, but strangely she also felt relieved that he had gone. The confused her more than anything.

She looked at Tom, an angry glare on her face. "Hello Tom," she bit out harshly, crossing her arms over her chest.

He smiled at her pleasantly even though she was glaring at him heatedly. "Hello, Hermione, fancy seeing you here, eh? You said you were shopping for your flat? Well, why don't I join you?"

She brushed past him and into the store while mumbling, "Yes, why don't you," in a sarcastic tone. She knew he'd follow her so she held the door open for him. "What do you want, Tom?" she asked as she walked further into the store and over to a display counter.

"I thought that was rather obvious." He was close to her- so very, very close. He leaned down so close to her that his chest was almost touching her back and whispered, "I want to be your friend."

Hermione looked at him coolly over her shoulder, her eyes locking with his. "I doubt that's all you want, Tom." She turned as he placed his arms on either side of her. "So, why don't you tell me what you really want?"

His eyes took their good old time in surveying her face. "Why don't you tell me what _you _want, Hermione. You're the one that has all the secrets. So tell me, what do _you_ want?"

She leaned closer to him. "I want a bit of peace for once. I want to not have to worry about anything." She leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms. "Your turn."

He smirked. "I want you."

**o!o**

A small crack was the only sign that the Horcrux was destroyed. Hermione stared at the small object in front of her and a smile appeared on her face. Two down, five more to go.

She drew the hood back over her head as she tucked her wand into her robes. She knew of three of them, though she was unsure of the locations. The last two would need a bit of research.

She turned to exit the cave when she got the feeling that she was no longer alone. She quickly moved to the walls and into the shadows. She strained her ears for any sound of intruders. She didn't have to wait long.

"I still don't understand why we're wasting our time here."

"Because our lord wants us to and we shouldn't disobey him."

"But why are we here?"

"Because we were told to be here. Satisfied?"

"No."

"I swear, Maciner, you're dumber than a box of rocks."

"Sorry, Nicholas."

"Just shut up and come on. Something triggered the wards, we best find out what it was."

Hermione pressed herself closer to the wall. The two men were Maciner Goyle and Nicholas Crabbe. They were both very deep in the Dark Arts from what she gathered.

They were both very large men, though not exactly the brightest, and could do a real number on her if they really wanted to. So, she best not get caught.

As they made their way towards her, she desperately sought to sink further into the shadows. She moved her hand inside her robe to grab her wand in case she needed it. She prayed that she wouldn't but one never knew what might happen.

As soon as they passed by her, she let out the breath she had been holding and quietly slipped back out of the cave. Not taking any chances, she whispered an illusion charm as she entered the light. She needed to get a little ways away before she could apparate without being detected.

She ran harder than she ever had before and only when she was safely back in her flat did she allow herself to relax. That was too close.

**o!o**

The first public Death Eater attack was recorded on August eighteenth in a village near Kent. Twelve muggles total were viciously murdered along with three wizards. The attack made headlines because no one was really sure what to make of the strange mark floating over the village.

But Hermione knew…and she also knew that in a roundabout way she was the cause of it. He had obviously discovered that one of his Horcruxes had been destroyed and had reacted to the news very violently indeed.

She didn't see Tom come in that night. She had admittedly sat by her door and listened for any sound that would alert her to his presence. She even sat outside in the hall on the stairs for a bit to see if he would come. Her waiting was fruitless.

She went to bed very late but still woke up early the next morning. She found herself out in the hall, listening for him. She surprised herself. There she was trying to destroy the pieces of his soul and yet she was concerned for his well-being.

She needed to get over this, she realized as she stood in the shower an hour later, letting the water cascade over her skin. She needed to remain aloof and continue to destroy his Horcruxes. Everything depended on this.

As she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself, she was aware that there was someone else in her flat. She picked her wand up from the counter and quietly opened the bathroom door, peering around the room. Steam slowly slid past her, her wet hair plastered itself to her body.

Two arms shot out suddenly and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her into a tight embrace. She shrieked and discovered that her wand was no longer in her hand.

She fought against the arms imprisoning her and found herself hauled roughly against a strong chest. She looked up, a glare ready, and met dark green eyes. "Let go of me, Tom."

There was a wicked smirk on his face as he looked down at her. "No." One of his hands ran slowly up her back until it rested lightly at the top of the towel, his fingers teasing the bare skin of her upper back. "I find that I like this position quite a bit."

She could feel how much he liked the position; the evidence was jabbing her in the abdomen. She balled up her fist and hit him hard in the chest. His arms fell from her and she instantly backed away, her hands making sure that the towel didn't fall.

"What are you doing here, Tom?"

His eyes surveyed her as he slowly advanced on her. "I was trying to sleep last night but something kept plaguing me. You." He was directly in front of her now. "You," he repeated with definite emphasis on the word.

"Me?"

In all honesty, he was making her quite uneasy. The predatory glint in his eyes made her realize her precarious position. At the moment, she had no wand, no clothes, and she was backed in a corner. If she was a gambler, she wouldn't bet on herself at the moment.

"Yes, you." His hand shot out and he grabbed a stray tendril brushing against her cheek. "No one knows anything about you. I've been inquiring about you, you see. I was told that you simply showed up one day and asked for a job. You didn't provide any information, any background, or any references. So who are you, Hermione Granger, and what are you doing here?"

"I'm just a woman looking for a fresh start, Tom," she said, trying to edge past him. He braced his arms on either side of her, trapping her between the wall and his chest.

"A fresh start, eh?" he whispered softly, his breath tickling her skin as he leaned down closer to her. "What may I ask do you need a fresh start from?"

She did some quick calculations in her head as she stared steadily at him. "From death, Tom. I came from a place of death, destruction," she paused, "and war. Excuse me if I just wish to forget all of that."

His eyes softened slightly as he gazed down at her. Then, he said, "Death, destruction, and war is everywhere, Hermione, you can't escape that. Besides, after a while you become numb to it all."

"Maybe _some_ people do," she snapped, "but I didn't. Everyday I had to wake up and wonder whether that would be my last day. Everyday I had to wonder whether my friends made it through the night. Everyday I had to question whether we actually had a chance of winning."

"Did you?"

Her eyes hardened on their own accord and she looked away from him. "I'm here all alone, what does that tell you?"

His face was in front of hers then, his lips hovering over hers. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but you must move on with your life. You can't continue to mourn for them when they are gone. There is nothing you can do to save them now."

As she stared at him, she thought silently that she could…and would. The answer to it all was standing in front of her now. And yet there was something in his eyes that made her feel remorseful over what she was planning.

He was Tom, he was Voldemort, and yet they were two entirely different entities.

Looking away, she sighed. "Tom, I'm making a puddle on the floor. Let me go get changed and then we can talk."

She watched as different emotions played out across his face. "Tom," she repeated softly.

"No," he said suddenly and then his lips were there on hers, kissing her with wanton abandonment. She leaned into his kiss, meeting his tongue with the same ferocity and passion.

She broke away first as she felt his hands moving toward the knot of the towel. She tore herself out of his arms, turning away from him as colour flooded her cheeks.

"Hermione," he cajoled and it took all her willpower to walk back to the bathroom, using the door as a divider, a barrier, a protection from him.

**A/N: So I had in some extra drama or else it would just be a plain old story... :-D...besides, what's a Harry Potter story without at least one sexy Black? Now, let's all celebrate my unemployment and the fact that I caught the oven on fire on my last day! WOOT! I am WalMart free!!!!!!! **

**...for now.**

**All my love!**

**MiZZ AmAyA**


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER**: **As with every chapter before and with every one that follows, I do not own Harry Potter and nor do I receive any royalties...unfortunately.**

**Eh, Whispers will come folks. I'm stuck. I will get out of the rut, though. As to this, well, there have been a lot of questions about the relationship between Tom and Hermione regarding each of their feelings towards the other, etc... I'm going to try to post my basis for portraying them the way I am on my LiveJournal hopefully Saturday, Sunday at the latest. It might make things a little clearer. The link is in my author's profile.**

**Five**

_Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society. --Mark Twain_

The invitation arrived by way of owl mail in the morning to Hermione as she sat at her desk. She stared at the fancy black envelope in confusion. The only writing on the outside was her name written in blood red ink.

She turned it over and stared at the seal in amazement. It was the Malfoy family crest. She recognized it from the times she had to stare at it on Draco Malfoy's ring during the brief stint in Potions when she was forced to partner with him...

The Malfoys were quite proud of their crest as they were of anything else that proclaimed their greatness.

She broke the seal carefully and opened up the parchment. The inside was written in the brightest silver she had ever seen. It sparkled and glittered as she stared at it.

_You are cordially invited to celebrate the twentieth birthday of Abraxas Malfoy on the twenty-third of August, 1947 in the Grand ballroom at Malfoy Estate. Dress is formal._

_Please RSVP by the twenty-first._

Hermione noticed there was no signature and briefly wondered whether Cy had been the one to send her the invitation since she didn't know any of the Malfoys. She found herself secretly hopeful and found that she was in a cheerful mood for the rest of the day.

She went home that evening and sat the letter on her desk. Of course she couldn't attend; she didn't have the money to purchase a fancy enough pair of dress robes for such a grand function.

She could still enjoy the fact that she had been invited. She, a mudblood, was invited to a pureblood function.

Her front door opened and Tom walked in without permission. She looked up at him, brow raised. "You know, they invented doors for a reason. They're to keep people out until they're invited in."

He merely smirked as he walked over to her. "Ah, my dear, we both know that you love having me over here. Why take time to knock when you're just going to invite me in anyway?"

"I could have been changing," she pointed out.

He gave her a roughish wink. "Now that would have been a treat." His fingers plucked up the invitation from the desk. "So, you did get yours, eh? Not that it matters, I was planning on taking you with me anyway."

"Hate to burst your bubble," she said as she snatched the invitation from his hand, "but I'm not going."

"What? You have to go." His arm wrapped around her waist as he pulled her closer to him. "We'll go together, you and me. See? It works out perfectly."

"Sorry, but no." She dislodged herself from his grasp and tossed the invitation on the counter. "I, unlike some people," she looked pointedly at him, "don't have a lot of money to just go out and buy a pair of fancy robes for one event."

"If that's what you're worrying about then don't, I'll purchase you some."

He was so dismissive about the matter that she felt herself getting angry. "I don't need your charity." she snapped as she walked away from him.

He caught up with her easily, gripping her arm to stop her from taking another step.

"It's not charity." he informed her, his eyes angry now too. "I simply want you to go with me. You don't have the money and I do. If it upsets you that much, then think of it as a loan."

She jerked her arm from his grasp. "I'll think about it."

He swooped down quickly and caught her lips with his own before she could turn away. "Don't think too long. We can go out shopping tomorrow."

**o!o**

As the wide doors opened to allow them entrance, Hermione sucked in a deep breath. This was nothing like what she expected. Unconsciously she stepped closer to Tom who grinned arrogantly though she didn't see it.

He hadn't taken no for an answer. The morning after she received the invitation, he had showed up at her flat at exactly seven in the morning and drug her to the dress shop.

He then proceeded to force her to try on outfits for him from which he chose the exquisitely cut dark amber dress she wore now.

His hand moved to the small of her back as he leaned down closer to her. "Smile," he whispered, "and relax. I promise I'll be right here by you the whole night."

She looked up and found herself grinning at him teasingly. "How do you know that isn't what's making me tense?" Her eyes drifted off to the dancing below. "You drug me here against my will after all."

His arm wrapped around her tightly. "Dearest Hermione, I doubt anyone could make you do something against your will, definitely not me." He smiled. "Let's dance."

She started to protest but he efficiently managed to lead her down the stairs and onto the dance floor. His arms wrapped around her so that she couldn't escape.

As the music started, he began to move in an intricate manner and she stumbled as she tried to keep up with his skillful moves. She had never danced like this before.

She smiled as she began to catch on to the pattern. He pulled her closer to his body as he easily maneuvered them across the dance floor through the other dancing couples.

"You're a natural," he commented. "When I first started, I was horrendous. It took well over three weeks for me to learn."

"I find that hard to believe," she responded. "You strike me as the type of person that finds it easy to do anything on the first time and perfect it." She smiled. "I also don't believe that you could do anything horrendously."

His eyes shined with anticipation of something yet to come…but she wasn't sure what. Neither was she sure she wanted to know. "We'll leave that comment to answer another day."

The music ended then and the couples began to separate and move on to another dance partner. However, Tom didn't relinquish his grip on her, making it evidently clear to everyone that she was with him. She merely stared up at him.

Before the music could start, though, Hermione removed herself from his grasp. "I think I'm going to sit this one out, but if you want to dance then by all means dance. I'm sure a great number of lovely ladies here would just love to dance with you."

Even as she said the words, a few females began to drift closer to him as they saw her moving away. They obviously wished to be in her position.

He merely stared at her for a moment, though, before coming to some sort of decision and holding out his arm for her to take. "Let's go get a drink and greet our host, shall we? We can dance later."

As she allowed him to lead her off the dance floor, she wondered at his rapt attention towards her. She knew that he wanted her, he had stated as much, but he was bordering on possessive. It was quite…unnerving.

Something caught Tom's attention off to the side and, after muttering a quick "excuse me," was gone. Hermione watched him go and disappear into the shadows with a frown on her face.

She was sure he was going to talk to one or more of his followers. She didn't know what the churning of her stomach meant and she wasn't completely sure that she wanted to find out either.

"Hermione."

She smiled as she turned to meet the hopeful smile of Cygnus Black. His hands were extended towards her and she obligingly placed hers in his.

"Hello Cy." She let her eyes roam over him, taking in his expensive looking robes that showed off his body. "You look amazing."

He grinned. "I honestly don't think I could find an adjective to describe how beautiful you look tonight. That dress…wow. I could hardly believe my eyes when you walked in."

"Thank you," she said graciously as a blush crept up her cheeks. Her eyes quickly flickered over to where Tom had disappeared and then back to Cy.

"Is it to bold to inquire as to whom the lucky lady is that you've escorted tonight?"

She was quite surprised when colour flooded his face and his eyes shifted- dare she say it- shyly. "Well…er…actually, I didn't bring anyone. I…I had been hoping that…." He blushed deeper. "Forget it, it doesn't matter."

"Come now, it must matter." She squeezed his hands as she smiled at him. "Tell me, please."

"Well, truth be known, I was rather hoping to ask you."

She found his shyness endearing. "You should have asked before Tom. I would have happily said yes." The song ended and the dancers prepared for the next dance. "Would you care to dance with me?"

He grinned. "I'd love to."

As he led her to the dance floor, she couldn't help but to compare his touch to Tom's. She really didn't mean to, not really, but she just found herself doing it unconsciously.

His touch didn't send tingles up her arms…

His voice didn't send shivers up her spine…

His eyes didn't make her weak at the knees….

His very presence didn't make her stomach churn with pleasure…

Hermione shut her eyes quickly, forcing the thoughts from her head. She shouldn't be thinking of Tom like that. He was her enemy…the one she was fighting against.

Cy held her close as they glided across the dance floor. His movement wasn't as smooth as Tom's nor was he as graceful. Often he would trip up or make the wrong step which instantly had him stuttering his apologies. She smiled at him and it was at that moment that she realized she could never be happy with Cy.

As the song ended, he took her hands in his. "Hermione, I…." He took a deep breath. "Surely you must know by now how I feel about you."

She opened her mouth to respond but he stopped her by placing a single digit on her lips. "No, don't say anything. I know you don't feel the same and I'm alright with that. I just…I need you to know."

"I'm truly sorry, Cy."

He smiled and kissed the back of her hands. "I know you are. You're too nice to not be. I can see it in your eyes how sorry you are." He leaned forward a bit. "They also show how strongly you feel for Tom."

She laughed. "Tom and I are just friends."

"You can say that, Hermione, but your eyes say something completely different. You may not realize your true feelings just yet, but give it time and trust your heart."

He gave her hands a brief squeeze and peered intently at her. "Always trust your heart," he repeated softly.

They were still standing on the dance floor and couples were whirling around them. She stared up at him and him down at her. She shook her head slightly to clear her mind.

"Cy, I don't think…"

"Ah, Hermione, there you are."

Hands skillfully removed her away from Cy and into another's embrace. "I've been looking for you. Thank you, Cygnus, for keeping her company but you can leave now, I'll stay with her."

Hermione glared at him as Cy excused himself. "You are one of the rudest people I know," she informed Tom as soon as Cy was out of hearing distance. She placed her hands on her hips. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

He grinned, damn him. And not one of those pleasing grins either, but one of those cocky, arrogant grins. "You can answer that yourself in the morning."

He really did deserve it, she told herself later after her hand had already moved on its own accord, striking his cheek with a resounding crack. Almost immediately the room grew quiet as all eyes turned to watch his reaction.

His already dark eyes turned even darker as anger simmered in their depth. She knew he was so outraged that he'd probably strike out at her but she was past caring. He deserved it.

"I'm not going to apologize if that's what you're waiting for," she snapped as he continued to glare at her, "because you bloody well deserved it. Truth be known, I should of punched you, you arrogant bastard."

When he didn't say anything, she couldn't help but to go on with her ranting. Actually, she was merely letting every pent up emotion out at this point.

"You are rude and self-centered and I've had enough of it! So you can either stand there looking like a stuck up pig or _you_ can apologize to _me_ and I'll consider accepting it."

His hard gaze simply stared at her as the room stood silent around them. She knew they were waiting for him to blow up. Hell, she was waiting for it, but she refused to show any fear as she stared at him defiantly.

His arm moved towards her before she knew what he was intending, his hand gripping hers painfully. "We're leaving," he growled as he pulled her roughly against him, "now."

She tried to pull away while saying, "You can leave, but I'm staying." But before she could pull away completely, he disapparated them both away from the party and to his flat.

She jerked away from him as soon as she regained her footing and headed towards the door. But before she could reach it, he was there blocking her path.

She put on a brave face as she stared up at him. "Let me pass."

He leaned closer to her and practically hissed, "No." One arm moved out and circled her wait, drawing her right up against him. "You're a hellcat, Hermione Granger, but I'll have you purring for me before long."

Her eyes widened uncharacteristically so as he swooped down and caught her mouth with his, not allowing her to break away as he shoved his tongue between her lips. It was rough; it was demanding; it was punishing but oh so irresistible.

She hated herself as she weakened physically, mentally, and emotionally in his embrace. He was the very evil she sought to destroy…and yet she wanted him desperately.

She struck out at him, her nails slashing at his chest as she forced herself to fight him. He smirked against her lips. "That's it, my little hellcat, fight me. Fight me."

She brought up her leg to kick him and he pressed himself fully against her, shoving her between the wall and him. She struggled against him as he ran his hands roughly and possessively over her body.

"Let me go," she hissed even as she felt herself melting against him. She had to keep fighting.

"Not tonight, my darling," he groaned against her neck as he nipped at her skin. "Not tonight. Tonight you are mine. Now kiss me."

She pressed her lips against his realizing that she was damning herself…but as his hands moved south, she decided she'd punish herself in the morning.

**Again, check out my LJ if you have time or want to know where the heck I'm going with this... **

**Much love as always to all of you who make writing worth it,**

**MiZZ AmAyA **


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: Unfortunately Santa did not grant my wish to make me JK Rowling so that I would own Harry Potter. I'm still lil' ol me and have no rights whatsoever to the Harry Potter universe.**

**So, just thought I would share that I now have a male in my life that I adore completely. His name is Sirius (seriously :-D) and he loves me. He is the most adorable thing in the world. Unfortunately for me, he has four legs and a tail. My brother got me a puppy for Christmas (a black lab) and he's sooo cute. Just thought I'd share that completely random thing.**

**Six**

_Time wears on and the memory withers, like the flowers placed on a grave with less frequency each passing year. With the passing of a few mere generations it's as though you never existed at all. -- from the book "Daughters of the Moon"_

Skin against skin, silk sliding down her arm as she shifted on the bed away from the other occupant while he slept. In the aftermath of everything, she was severely scolding herself for her momentary lapse of judgment.

She had acted…stupidly.

She continued to inch slowly towards the edge. What the hell had she done?

Oh, she had not totally submitted to him, for that she could give herself a small pat on the back. She had fought him even as she weakened under his touch.

She clambered off the bed and silently made her way to her clothes. She gathered them in her arms and dashed to the bathroom. She needed to get dressed and back to the safety of her own flat before he woke up.

She had just pulled on her scanty knickers when there was a tap on the door. She stared at the barrier with wide eyes, her hands flying to cover her chest. Bugger…

He opened the door, totally unabashed by his own nudity, and stared at her. His eyes ran down her form and then slowly back up, his brow quirking questionably. "Leaving?"

"Er…well, I just remembered that I…er…have a lot of work to do." She took a deep breath while backing up as he came towards her. "I…er…really need to go…"

"Can't it wait?" he asked. His hand reached out and he cupped her elbow, pulling her arm away from her chest. "And isn't it a bit late for modesty considering the position we were in twenty minutes ago?"

"Tom…I." She took a deep breath and covered herself back up with her arms. "I think we just made a big mistake and I…I…this can't happen again, Tom. _I_ can't do this again."

He smiled at her. "Sure we can and we will, my little hellcat, because we go well together." He ran his hands up and down the upper part of her arms as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You and I were inevitable; _this_ was inevitable."

She shook her head but he forced her to look up at him. "Don't you see, Hermione, from the very beginning we were drawn together? We were meant to be together."

She stared at him disbelievingly. The future Dark Lord was trying to convince her that they belonged together. It was almost laughable- almost.

She closed her eyes. She had to remember why she was here, her mission. But that topic was hard to concentrate on as Tom began to kiss and nibble a path down her throat while his hands traveled slowly down her back to cup her derriere.

"Tell me you don't want me," he whispered in her ear. "Tell me that you don't want to be with me."

"I don't want you."

He drew back, his hand coming up to cup her chin. "Look me in the eye and say it." When she stubbornly continued to keep her eyes closed, he tilted her head back. "Open your eyes and look at me, Hermione, when you say it."

Slowly she did as he asked but found that the words refused to part her lips. "Come on," he taunted, "say it, Hermione, and I'll leave you alone. You can go back to your flat and we can pretend that this night never happened. Tell me, Hermione."

She was ashamed at the moisture in her eyes and ripped her head to the side so she could stare everywhere else but at him, giving him the answer he desired.

With a triumphant smile, he held his hand out to her. "Come, my stubborn little hellcat, let's go back to bed." And, with only a slight hesitation, she took his hand.

**o!o**

Hermione jerked on her cloak and quickly vacated the building, moving swiftly past the other Ministry workers. She kept her eyes diverted to discourage any attempt at conversation.

She just figured out something after staring at a document. She needed to hurry, though, for Tom was expecting her in an hour. Since what she was currently planning would ultimately destroy him, she wasn't too keen on him finding out.

As soon as she was outside, she glanced around quickly and disapparated from the spot. She reappeared outside of a shabby looking building. There were lights on inside and the laughter of younger children drifted in the air.

She pulled her hood up and over her head as she made her way towards the orphanage. It was probably around dinner time, she reasoned. She wasn't sure what she'd say when faced with the woman who ran the place, but she had to get in there.

A sudden thought entered her mind and she extracted her wand from her cloak. She thought up an image while performing an intricate wand movement. Warmth wrapped around her as the spell took effect.

She smiled, but it wasn't her smile.

It was the smile of Albus Dumbledore.

She tucked her wand back into her robes and knocked on the door. It was answered promptly by a middle age woman in a drab brown dress with a white apron. "May I help you?"

"Good evening," Hermione greeted and was pleased to hear the Headmaster's voice leaving her throat, "is Mrs. Cole here?"

"Who's asking?"

"Albus Dumbledore," she extended her hand. "I was here a few years ago to collect a Mr. Tom Riddle. I wish to see Mrs. Cole about him briefly if that's possible."

The woman looked a bit doubtful but still stepped back to allow her to pass. "Just wait here, Mr. Dumbledore. I'll go see whether Mrs. Cole is busy or not and return shortly."

Hermione stood in the foyer looking around while she waited trying to act in a Dumbledore-like manner. Scary part was the fact that it wasn't a bit hard. All she did was stand there with a stupid grin on her face while humming merrily.

Mrs. Cole was the person that greeted her three minutes later with a calculating look on her face. Hermione quickly performed Legilimency on the other woman to see what all Dumbledore had said to her the last time.

"Headmaster Dumbledore," the woman said, hand extended, "what a pleasant surprise. I didn't think I'd be seeing you again. Have another child to retrieve? Bit late is it not?"

The woman was a squib from a low class pureblood family. A distant relative of the Weasley's actually. Hermione smiled. "Actually, no, I've come to discuss Mr. Riddle."

The other woman frowned. "Really, what about?"

"I'm afraid I can't discuss all the details, but I believe that Mr. Riddle left something here of monumental value and I need to find it before long to prevent future damage."

"Sir?"

"I can't explain much, but please allow me to have a look around."

There was a slight hesitation then, "Alright."

Hermione smiled and headed towards the stairs which led to Tom's old rooms. "Oh, and Mrs. Cole, please make sure this visit is kept secret. I don't want anyone to know just yet what I'm doing."

The woman nodded and left Hermione to her own devices. She easily found Tom's old room. It was currently vacant which caused her to be a bit suspicious until she felt the magic surrounding it.

She quickly shifted through the items, looking for anything that he might have turned into a Horcrux. Nothing called out to her; usually she could feel the magic within a Horcrux.

She slammed a desk drawer shut and looked around, her hands on her hips. She only had twenty more minutes before she had to meet Tom. There had to be a Horcrux around…

A smile appeared once again on her face as a memory suddenly sprung to mind. Harry had told her of something Dumbledore had shared with him, something Tom had done while he was at the orphanage.

She opened the window and slid out, carefully climbing down the side of the building. Since the bricks were uneven, there were lots of places to put her feet and hands.

She jumped the last meter or so and took off towards the hills where the cave had to be located. She ran since she had limited time. She couldn't afford to be late…

She was out of breath by the time she topped the hill and checked the time. Ten minutes left. She could only hope that he hadn't gotten around to fully protecting the Horcrux yet.

She raised her wand up in front of her and started into the darkness. 'Dear merciful Merlin' was her last thought as she found herself faced with many obstacles.

**o!o**

Out of breath with multiple cuts on her body, Hermione collapsed on the ground outside of the cave fifteen minutes later. She was late, but, quite frankly, she didn't care.

She lifted her hand up above her face and stared at the broken locket. She had managed to get it and destroy it…with only a bit of pain- oh alright, a _lot_ of pain.

She groaned as she rolled over onto her side to block out the light. She was no longer disguised as Dumbledore. She was in great risk if someone stumbled upon her while she was lying out in the open.

She didn't know whether she could come up with a plausible explanation.

She forced herself to rise and apparate from the spot. She needed to go somewhere to deposit the locket where no one would find it anytime soon. She appeared in Braxshire and glanced around.

No one had noticed her yet which was a very good thing. She slipped into the shadows behind the houses and hurried along down the string of small cottages. It was near the end when she stopped.

She glanced up at the house that would be hers. Her grandparents owned the house and were just as work dedicated as her dad would be in the future. Right now there shouldn't be anyone home so it should be safe to slip in unnoticed. She slipped her wand out of her robes once more and magically unlocked the window.

She slipped in quickly and made her way through the house. She knew that on the second floor in the one spare room that would be used as an office was a loose floorboard where she could hide it.

That found, she slipped the locket into the small bag and placed it carefully in the floorboards. She closed it back up and, on second thought, placed a light magical seal on it so that it couldn't be open for at least thirty years.

She was now a good seventeen minutes late meeting Tom. She quickly apparated back to her office and ran to the bathroom. She knew there was a small medical kit stashed somewhere in there that she could use to clean up her cuts.

She washed them out and put on the proper potions to heal them. She watched as they sealed themselves closed. Of course the bigger and deeper ones didn't heal as well but they were mainly under her clothes. There were a few bruises that didn't disappear but she could say she fell or something.

She then went to Diagon Alley where she ran into the first store and bought the first thing that caught her eye. She could use the excuse that she was shopping for a present for him and just lost track of time…not exactly plausible but hey, she didn't have a lot of time.

She apparated back to her flat and quickly changed her clothes, splashing on a bit of vanilla flavoring on her neck. She liked the smell of it better than perfume.

She ran her hands through her hair to make it seem less frizzy and then stopped. Why was she getting all anxious and antsy for a simple date with Tom?

He was her enemy.

Or was he now?

She wasn't sure of her feelings anymore. She sat down on the bed and cradled her head in her hands. She hated everything she was feeling. She was so confused.

She didn't hear the door open, nor did she hear the tell-tale sign of footsteps approaching her. She was so lost in her thoughts that the only thing to startle her out of them was the hand grabbing her arm and lifting her from the bed.

She gasped and looked up into the hardened eyes of Tom. They instantly softened, though, as he stared at her and she briefly wondered why until she felt his thumb running across her cheek, wiping away her tears.

It was in moments like this that she wondered how he could ever possible become the most sinister wizard the world would probably ever see.

"I'm sorry, I got a bit distracted," she instantly started only to be shushed by him.

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss on the bridge of her nose, letting his lips linger there for a few seconds as his hands squeezed her upper arms lightly.

He didn't ask what was wrong, he merely held her while she cried silently, the tears escaping her eyes on their own accord. She graciously leaned into him, enjoying the comfort he was providing.

When she was done, she leaned back and stared up at him. "Thanks," she whispered while brushing the vengeful treks down her face away.

He smiled, a completely un-Tom-like smile that confused her. "You're welcome," he whispered, brushing a kiss across her lips. "Come on, I have some dinner over in my flat for us. You must be hungry."

She nodded and as she followed him, she felt a twinge of guilt. She was allowing herself to become close to him and he to her and all the while she was working to destroy him. Was she really being fair to either of them?

But on the other hand, was Tom capable of any romantic feelings. She knew that he wanted her, lusted after her, needed her…but could he ever love her?

She doubted it, but still…

Her features froze as she walked behind him as a mere speckle of a thought drifted to the forefront of her mind. She pushed it away, though, without any further examination.

She was here to do a job and she needed to remember that. She couldn't let any emotion stand in the way of her mission. It was vital for all those that she loved and that loved her that she do this.

Needing a bit of time, she stopped him before they could exit her flat. "Yes?" he inquired as he turned to face her.

"I forgot," she stammered, her mind casting out with hopes that some idea would take hold of the bait, "I bought you a present."

His forehead crinkled as his eyebrows drew together and his mouth turned down in a frown. "You bought me a present?" he asked, confused.

"Yes. It's nothing much, but…"

She broke off as she turned and headed back to her room, picking up the small bag and returning to his side. "Here," she said as she extended it towards him.

He gave her an unreadable look as he slowly stuck his hand down in the bag and withdrew the book. He gazed at the cover and then up at her.

"_King Arthur and the Knights of the Roundtable_?" he inquired.

She sighed dejectedly. She figured he wouldn't like it but still… "I'm sorry that you don't like it. I just thought…"

"No," he interrupted, stepping forward quickly to grab her hand, "I just…I don't receive gifts that often. Thank you." He paused and gave her hand a squeeze. "I love it."

She smiled then and leaned forward to kiss him. He met her halfway, his hand letting hers drop as it slowly moved to the small of her back to bring her closer to him.

That night Hermione laid in his arms with no thoughts or worries in her head. She would simply go with the times and see what tomorrow had to offer.

She would still destroy the Horcruxes for that was her mission. But even as she acknowledged her mission, she knew she could never give up on the man lying beside her.

She was beginning to fall hopelessly and deeply in love with Tom Riddle…

And she feared there was nothing she could do to cushion the fall.

**So this story just took a completely new turn for me. I had an ending planned but as the story progressed and the characters took on a life of their own, the ending completely changed. I know quite a lot of you aren't going to be happy with it, but it's the only one that makes a lot of sense at the moment. I talked it over with my wonderful beta (Curse Weaver) and we both like the new ending I have in mind. This story will be about 20 chapters.**

**As always, thanks for reading. MiZZ AmAyA**


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: I sadly cannot admit to being JK Rowling or owning the HP universe.**

**Seven**

_Your vision will become clear only when you look in your heart. __Who looks outside, dreams. Who looks inside, awakens. -- Carl Gustav Jung_

When driving down a country lane and coming upon a cow in the road, the driver knows that he is either going to have to go around the beast or wait for it to move when it feels like it. Cows, it is said, along with bulls are some of the most stubborn beings out there.

Whoever made that analysis had obviously never met Hermione Granger.

Currently seated in a high back chair in the Headmaster's office, she stared stonily ahead while Albus Dumbledore tried his best to get her to talk. He had called her in earlier that morning and began to interrogate her as soon as she had walked through his office doors.

But she had refused to budge.

And now they merely sat there staring at each other, waiting for the other to relent first. Now, as they both seem to have the stubbornness of a buffalo, this could take forever but we don't have that sort of time.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore sighed, pressing his fingers over his eyes in exasperation, "I have no doubt that it was you who impersonated me at the orphanage. I am not angry; I just want to know why."

She quirked a brow in question. "Do you have substantial evidence that it was me, sir, that was at this orphanage impersonating you or are you guessing?"

"Miss Granger, we both know it was you so just tell me what you were doing and we can conclude this meeting."

Hermione leaned back slightly in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. "First of all, there is no way you have of knowing if it was even me there. And secondly, even if it was, why in Merlin's name would I tell you?"

"Because I can help you."

She stared at him for a moment before shaking her head. "I'm afraid, sir, that I'm beyond the means of any help, especially from you."

"Miss Granger," he started slowly as if chewing over his words, "may I run my guess by you and see how close I am to the truth?"

"By all means, go right ahead," she said with a wave of her hand. "I doubt you'd listen to me if I told you not to."

He tapped one digit against his chin in a steady rhythm as he stared at her. Then, in a confidant voice, said, "I believe it all has to do with Mr. Tom Riddle."

She froze, only momentarily though, before looking back at him with a passive face as if she cared less. "Really? And what makes you think that?"

"I believe you are attempting to destroy five objects that he created," he went on, shocking Hermione into silence. "I believe that the acceptance letter was one which explains why you were so adamant to get it back in your possession. I also believe you've been destroying them since you've been here and that there was one hidden at the orphanage."

She forced a bored look on her face. "Do you have any proof of this or are you simply guessing and hoping that you find some small fact out of a pile of lies?"

"You are destroying his Horcruxes," he stated confidently. "What I don't understand is why you are doing so when you are obviously in love with him."

"I am not in love with him," she stated defiantly. She noticed a second too late that she had not denied knowledge of the Horcruxes. Damn.

"I can help you, Hermione, if you'd only tell me what you are planning."

His voice dripped with honey as he smiled at her. She studied him for a moment. He wanted to destroy Tom. He knew what the young man could and would become. She only wanted to protect those she loved.

Standing from her chair, she looked back at him. "Whatever I'm doing- though I'm not admitting to anything- I'm doing it for a reason. Not your reason but my own. No one, not even you, can help me."

Just as she reached the door, his voice called out to her. "I need a Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, Hermione."

She looked back at him over her shoulder. "What does that have to do with me?"

"I'm offering it to you."

She stared at him disbelievingly. "You're offering me the position?"

He nodded. "If you want it."

She turned around slowly and leaned back against the door, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared stonily at him. "Why?"

He shrugged. "You are the best person for the job. I know that you are smart and skilled with a wand."

"I know you a lot better than you think," she interrupted. "You want me here so you can keep an eye on me. You want to know what I'm doing and you'd resort to keeping me here under your watchful eye to find out."

He didn't bother to deny it. Actually, he merely looked at her and said, "You're right." He smiled slightly. "But you are the best applicant."

"Only I didn't apply," she contorted passionately.

"That's beside the point." He stood from his chair and braced his hands on his desk. "The job pays moderately well. You get your own rooms and a schedule that would allow you some free time to complete your missions."

"You never asked whether I wanted the job."

"I'm asking now."

She stared at him for a moment before venturing, "Tom wants the job."

"Tom will not get the job while I'm here," he said, his voice a bit harsh. "Mr. Riddle, I'm afraid, is not professor material. I don't trust him around the students."

"You're damned if you do, damned if you don't," she muttered under her breath.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing." She drew in a deep breath. "I'm afraid I can't accept."

"Don't decide now," he interrupted. "Take a few days to think it over. Decide whether the research position you have at the Ministry is what you want to do for the rest of your life or whether you'd like to move on in your career."

Something suddenly clicked in her mind. "You're the reason I'm stuck in that low class, cast-off job," she accused.

He only smirked slightly, not denying her charge. "Come now, my dear, I thought you knew me. Did you really think I would allow you into a high class position when I didn't trust you?"

She deserved it, she guessed, for she kept many vital secrets from him. But, even as she thought that, she rebelled against it. Dumbledore was showing his manipulative side. Was he really all that different from those he condemned?

"I'll think about it," she said briskly as she grabbed a hold of the door handle.

"You do that," he said as the door closed behind her.

o!o

The streets of Diagon Alley were filled with laughter as students rushed through the crowds to purchase last minute supplies. Hermione sat on a bench in front of the Apothecary's shop watching it all through thoughtful eyes.

She could teach these students.

But did she want to? Sure, she had considered teaching once but had soon decided against it. She had wanted to do something worthwhile.

But that was then when she was in her own time. Now she was out of her element without any credentials. If Dumbledore kept working against her, she had no hope.

She drew in a sharp breath and leaned her head back. Merlin's furry socks, she was screwed. Either way she went, she would be on someone's bad side.

Then again, Tom might kill her as soon as he discovered that she was destroying his Horcruxes.

Oh Bugger.

Suddenly her face was caught between two hands and a pair of lips was crashed to hers. She tensed for a moment before realizing who it was and relaxing.

Tom pulled back and smiled down at her. "Hey you," he greeted, coming around to sit down beside her. "You're just the girl I was looking for."

"Hmm," she smiled, leaning her head against his shoulder, "is there some other girl you should be looking for?"

"Loads," he responded, kissing her temple. "What are you doing out and about today? Do you not have to work?"

"No, I didn't have any work to do." She sighed and threaded her fingers through his. "Actually, I've got tomorrow off too."

"Really? We should go do something then. I'm sure I could get off if you want to do something."

She leaned forward and looked back at him. "Am I not keeping you from your friends? You've been spending a lot of time with me and not them. I don't want to take up all of your time."

Even as she said it, she realized how hypocritical she was being. She _wanted_ him to spend more time with her than his friends. His friends were bad influences.

"No, it's alright; I can see most of them at work. I _want_ to be with you."

She smiled slightly as she looked away with a slight blush on her face. She was happier than she admittedly should be. "Alright then."

"So now that that's settled, why don't you tell me what had you frowning a minute ago." The smile was quickly off her face. "That's the frown."

She determinedly stared away from him as she considered how she should answer. She could always tell him the truth, she supposed. Of course that would most likely lead to a large public scene with him yelling and possibly cursing.

On the other hand, the devil's advocate in her reasoned, if she lied to him then he would find out at a later date. He would then be mad that she had been asked to take the position _and_ that she had lied to him.

Either way, she lost.

"Something's happened, hasn't it? Something you don't want to tell me about."

She shrugged non-committal. Silence may be a way of getting out of answer for a bit, she told herself. Though she knew as well as we all do that with Tom not answering wouldn't get her very far. He liked answers.

"You have many secrets, Hermione Granger, but somehow I think this one is more pertinent than the others," he said softly in a low growl. "Tell me."

She made the mistake of looking back at him and into his dark eyes which immediately captured and held hers. Those eyes were hard to escape.

Maybe she could ease into the delicate matter, that way he wouldn't necessarily blow up at her. She could make it seem like the blame laid on another's shoulders- which coincidentally it did but he wouldn't believe it if she just told him flat out.

"Dumbledore's the reason that I can't further my position in the Ministry," she informed him.

"What?" he demanded in unleashed fury. "Are you sure of this?"

She nodded. "He practically told me himself."

"Why?"

She smiled ruefully. "Apparently he doesn't trust me. He doesn't like the 'many secrets' I keep. Until he trusts me- which is highly unlikely- I'm stuck in that research position."

He made an inaudible sound in his throat as he turned away from her, his jaw clenched. "Damn him," he muttered. He turned back to her and picked up her hands. "I'm sure this is more about me than you, Hermione. He found out that we were involved and-"

"Not entirely true," she interrupted guiltily.

"What do you mean?"

Confession time.

"Well, I actually met Dumbledore when I first arrived here. He found me in a...er... well, a compromising position which I couldn't explain and still refuse to explain. He is not very pleased about my blatant rebellion."

He grinned slightly in an arrogant 'serves-him-right' sort of way. "I can imagine."

"Well, he got me to stay at Hogwarts for two weeks in which I was under his constant surveillance. When I still refused to relinquish information, he got me the position with the Ministry."

"He's an interfering old bugger," Tom told her with a slight smile. "But don't worry, we can find you somewhere else to work and-"

"Actually, he proposed a position earlier today."

That stopped him. He sat there and stared at her for a minute or two and she knew that he had finally figured out that this was what was really troubling her.

Sensing her apprehension, he held up his hands to show that he didn't have his wand in his hands. "I promise I won't get mad."

"Don't make me promises you can't and won't keep, Tom," she whispered which immediately had his eyes flashing. She figured he deserved the warning. Her news wasn't in the least bit good.

"Tell me," he demanded of her. His hand came up suddenly to grasp her chin, forcing her to continue to look at him. "Tell me."

"He," she swallowed, "offered me the DADA position."

He gave her chin a slight shove as he whirled off the bench, his hands clenching into fists at his side. She heard his curses loud and clear and, considering the looks they were receiving, she figured the passer-bys could too.

She stood quickly and tried to catch his hand to draw him around to face her but was unsuccessful. "Tom, please listen," she pleaded as she tried to divert the blow-up until they were in private.

"Listen?!" he demanded as he rounded on her. His eyes were dark now, unbelievably dark as he glared down at her. His hands gripped her upper arms painfully. "Listen?!"

"Please," she whispered, staring up at him. "Let's go home and talk about this like reasonable adults and-"

He barked with laughter as he shoved her away from him. Then, he stilled and looked back at her. He grabbed her before she even registered the fact and apparated them back to his flat.

Picking her up easily, he slung her onto the bed. "I want an explanation now."

"Tom-"

"Explain to me how we are both not trusted and yet _you_ are the one who gets the job offer," he continued. "Explain to me why I, who wanted the job, was turned down while you, who didn't want the position, was offered it. Explain it to me, Hermione. Now."

"He doesn't want you around the children," she rushed on to say. "He fears what you'll teach them. He wants me there so he can keep an eye on me."

"He fears what I'll teach them!" he raged. "I'll teach him."

"I didn't accept the position," she whispered.

He rounded on her quickly, positioning himself over top of her on the bed so she was imprisoned there. He smiled down at her sinisterly and she instantly knew what everyone feared when they looked at him. "But you will accept it, Hermione. You will accept it and _we_ will teach the course. Me through you."

**A/N: Okay, so nothing is going to be happy go lucky all the time... After this, it's going to get a little sticky in their relationship... **

**Again, I'm moving next week so I'll try to slink in and update before I leave. Next Chapter: Tom gets mad and Hermione boils up a plan.**


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter**

**Thanks so much to my wonderful beta Curse Weaver who I don't praise enough. Love ya bunches!**

**Eight**

_The game of life is not so much in holding a good hand as playing a poor hand well. -- H.T. Leslie_

Hermione sat once again in the high back chair facing opposite of Dumbledore's dark mahogany desk. Her hands were folded neatly on her lap as she waited for his reaction to what she had just shared with him.

Finally he shifted, his hands moving out to grab onto a piece of paper. "Tom wants you to accept the position?" he asked slowly as if still coming to terms with it all.

She nodded. "Yes."

"And you're declining?"

"Yes."

There was a slight pause as his blue eyes stared at her. "Why?"

"Because I know Tom better than you think I do. I don't trust his attitude towards this. I know he is up to something." She felt a little bad for not sharing the whole truth with him, but she quickly dispelled that notion. He didn't need to know that.

"So why did you come here today if you don't mind me asking?"

"Because Tom ordered me to come here," she told him shortly. She leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms over her chest. "And he would know whether I came or not."

He smirked slightly. "And you're frightened of him."

She gave him a look that clearly stated 'are-you-mental.' "I'd be stupid not to be."

"Then why, if I may be so bold, are you seeing him?"

She opened her mouth to answer then promptly shut it again. She had no _logical_ answer for him. Logic would tell her to run away from him as fast as humanly possible and to never look back. Logic would have her destroying the Horcruxes without getting involved with anyone. Logic would have her destroying him directly afterwards and holding no emotional attachments.

But logic wasn't playing any game in her life anymore.

She knew all her _illogical_ answers, but she wasn't sure whether he would understand them or not. She wanted to be with him because he made her smile at odd moments. She wanted him because he made her skin tingle with a single touch. She wanted him because he made the butterflies in her stomach flitter when he kissed her.

She wanted to be with him because he made her feel safe….at times.

"That is too bold," she said finally, staring at him evenly.

He merely smiled as if sensing her true answer. Sitting back in his chair, he stared at her while folding his hands on top of the desk. "I apologize for my frankness."

She didn't respond. Instead she chose to merely turn her head away slightly as if giving the impression that she was ignoring him. Best to keep her mouth shut than to admit anything unknowingly.

He unfolded his hands and grabbed some paper over on the desk, his eyes scanning over it quickly. "And so you want me to deny you the position so you can avoid Tom's wrath. Am I correct in my assumptions, Hermione?"

"Yes." She gave a slight shrug as if it didn't make any difference. "What else could I possibly want?"

"What I don't understand is _why_ I should cooperate in your little scheme." His blue eyes met hers over the half rimmed spectacles. "After all, I am in need of a professor."

"There has to be someone else…"

"You are the best," he interrupted.

She smiled at him, slow and deliberate. "Actually, _sir_, if you want to get technical about it, Tom is the best. He knows way more than I do about the subject."

"Yet I am afraid that what he knows isn't good."

"And that is why you can't let me have this position," she told him softly, her voice serious and pleading. "You simply can't, sir."

"I'm afraid I don't follow completely." He sat up a bit straighter in his chair. "I offered you the position, not Tom. So why can't you take the job?"

She lowered her head slightly and rubbed it, asserting just enough pressure to relieve some of the tension. "If I take the position, Tom is going to try to teach through me. He would make sure that I taught what he wanted me to teach."

She closed her eyes for just a brief second before opening them back up again. "I know you don't trust me, sir, and quite frankly I don't know whether I'd trust me either with the amount of knowledge I gave, but I'm begging you to trust me now."

She scooted forward in her chair so that she was closer to the desk. "I care for the students of this school and I also care for Tom. They're two complete opposites and I know that I have to make a choice. I would love to instruct them but I can't put myself into the position where I would be governed by Tom."

"Hermione…"

"I can't be the reason these students turn evil," she whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek.

He sat and stared at her for a moment or two. Then, he nodded as if he was sentencing himself to some horrible punishment. "Alright. As of this moment, I decline you for the position of the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor."

Hermione smiled slightly and stood from her chair. "Thank you, Headmaster. I appreciate this. I will," she paused for a moment, "one day, sir, trust you with my secrets but at this moment they must remain my own."

He nodded and stood as well, holding his hand out for her to shake. "I'll be waiting for that day to come. Until then, take care and be careful."

She gave him the briefest of smiles before turning her back on him and walking out the door. The sound of the stairs moving seemed ominous to her as she waited for them to spiral her down to the bottom.

She kept her head down as she walked down the corridors towards the main door. A million and one thoughts were racing through her head as she mechanically put one foot in front of the other.

She stepped out into the rain, raising her face up to allow the wet crystals hit her face. They streamed down her face and she just smiled. The rain had always managed to cheer her up and it looked as if that was one thing that hadn't changed.

She continued on to the main gates, not bothering with casting a waterproof charm on herself as she let the water soak through her clothes. She apparated once outside the gates to an alley in London. Once in the alley she pulled out her wand and transfigured a coat out of a piece of paper she found lying there.

The street was practically empty when she emerged from the alley and she decided to take her time. She really was in no hurry to go back to her flat and face Tom. That was one battle that could wait a bit, she decided as she felt the rain hitting her skin.

She dodged into a bookstore on impulse and cast a quick smile at the old woman behind the counter. "Hello dear, can I help you with anything?" the old lady asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No, thank you. I just thought I'd come in and look around while I dry off some. Thanks anyway."

"Well, if you need anything, dear, just holler and I'll come see if I can help you."

Hermione nodded as she went down one aisle and began to scan the bookshelves. She saw a wide collection of Jane Austen novels but skipped over them. Those were some of the first books she purchased when she had arrived here.

Later on down the way she found _The Count of Monte Cristo_ and an older edition of _The Illiad_. She passed over them and picked up a collection of Greek Myths which included _Pygmalion_.

Reaching into her pocket, she realized she had enough notes to purchase that book plus one other. She continued on her way, the book tucked under her arm, and ran a finger over the spines of the book.

She picked up one other that she had never heard of and headed towards the front. The old lady was still standing there, glasses placed low on her nose as she peered at Hermione over them. "Found what you wanted, dear?"

"Yes, ma'am." She laid the books down and waited while the woman tallied them. Then she placed the appropriate amount of notes on the counter "Thank you."

She exited the store with the books tucked safely in a bag hanging from her arm. She glanced at the muggle wristwatch and saw that it was getting late. Better sooner than later, she thought mildly before popping into a deserted alley and apparating to the hallway of her flat.

The door closing in the dead quiet of the room admittedly alarmed her more than anything else. She had this bad feeling eating away at her innards and she knew the exact cause. The news she carried was not in any way good news.

She pulled off her soggy jacket and hung it on the rack by the door as she placed the bag with the books on the floor. She tugged anxiously at hem of her t-shirt. Tom had requested the day off so, more than likely, he was waiting for her.

She slipped off her shoes and started towards the sitting room. Maybe, if she was lucky, he wouldn't be waiting for her. But she wasn't one for luck.

"How did it go?"

She jumped, startled, and spun around to face him. He was half hidden by the shadows. He had his hands folded behind his back in a superior manner as he stared down his nose at her.

Alright so maybe she had just missed one too many hours of sleep. Maybe she was just tired of him constantly bossing her around. Maybe she was just fed up with life. Whatever it was that caused her to finally blow didn't matter.

"You know what, Tom, it doesn't matter how it went. It doesn't matter one iota and you want to know why? Because I didn't want the damn job in the first place. You can bully me all you want but I _refuse_ to take the position!"

He didn't say anything for a beat or two but when he did begin to speak, his voice was cold and harsh. "So you just turned it down?"

"You're damn right I turned it down! I understand that I'll probably be stuck in a dead end job for the rest of my life but that's alright with me. I am not going to let you or Albus Dumbledore walk all over me! If you don't like it then you can bloody well get out!"

Again he stood silent as she took a few deep, steadying breaths. Then, he was there, right up against her and shoving her into a wall. His eyes were dark with anger. His hands squeezed her skin painfully where he had a hold of her.

"Is that so?" he inquired in a deadly purr that froze her bones.

"Yes," she whispered. She looked down at where his fingers dug into her skin. "Let me go, Tom, and get out."

"No."

She glared up at him. "Tom, I really don't feel like sitting through the Spanish Inquisition. So please just leave. We can talk when you stop acting like a spoilt child and start acting like an adult again."

His grasp tightened painfully and she knew that she had probably gone too far this time. But she didn't care. Let him kill her and put her out of her dilemma.

Instead he loosened his grip and leaned back a bit. "You will accompany me to a …_gathering_ tomorrow night." He leaned closer. "I want to know whether you're faithful to me, Hermione, and we will discover tomorrow night."

Dear Merlin! He expected her to go to a Death Eater meeting. She certainly wasn't going to do that. "Sorry, I'm busy."

"Rearrange your schedule."

Staring up at him defiantly, she replied with a resounding, "No."

His eyes flashed with warning as his hands bit into her skin once again. "Hermione, you _will_ rearrange your schedule and…"

"No, Tom, I will not. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of arguing with you. Just let go of me and leave."

Surprisingly, he did let go of her but he didn't leave. He effectively trapped her between himself and the wall. She stared at him, waiting for him to move.

"Tom."

"I'm not leaving," he stated simply.

Biting her lower lip, she pushed him away with all her might but he still didn't budge. He had a firm grip on her now as he hauled her up against him. Her leg came up and her foot struck his shin but he still didn't pull back.

"I'm not leaving," he growled again. He swung her around and threw her upon the couch. Before she could scurry away, he was there, covering her body with his. "You will rearrange your schedule for tomorrow night and go with me."

"Absolutely not," she hissed, her face dangerously close to his. "You may be able to scare others into doing what you want but I've seen and experienced much worse. As far as I'm concerned, whatever we had is over with as of this moment. Now get the hell off me and go back to your own flat, Tom."

He stared at her for a moment or two, his dark green eyes flashing. Then, he rose in one swift move. "You will go with me tomorrow, Hermione, whether we're together or not. Be ready by six or I will come over to personally drag you there."

She lay on the couch seething long after he left. Finally she rose up and snatched up her wand, blasting the nearest thing to her to small pieces. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she realized where she had gone wrong.

She had challenged the future Dark Lord and now she was suffering the consequences.

o!o

No less than five people filled the room when she walked into her office the next day. Joan, a thirty something witch that assisted some of the bosses higher up, waved to her briefly before continuing to file the stack of papers on her right.

Richard, a young man who worked alongside Hermione on some of her assignments, chose that moment to approach her. "Hey, how's it going?"

"Great, just bloody fantastic," she said through clenched teeth.

He took a step back, shocked by her behaviour. "Alright," he said slowly as if talking to a frightened animal, "is this the point where I ask you if anything is wrong?"

She was about to bite his head off but stopped herself. Why was she mad at him? He never did anything to her. "I'm sorry, Richard, I guess I'm just a bit…off today."

"Off, you say. I say you're more than off," he commented. "Let me guess, you and your little lover boy had a row and you have yet to make up."

She looked over at him and glared. "Ha ha ha, very funny Richard. Now, if you don't mind, we have work to do."

He smirked. "Avoiding the topic? That's not like you. Usually you like to tackle problems head on, not avoid them as if they were the plague."

She didn't comment to that, only shuffled around in a drawer for something to work on. She could feel his eyes on her the whole time and knew the instant he figured it out.

"But it was more than a row, wasn't it?" he questioned, the smirk long gone from his face. "You guys broke up, didn't you? Ah, Hermione, I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's stupid." She gave a bitter laugh. "Actually I'm stupid for ever thinking I could actually break up with a guy like Tom."

"Alright, I don't think I'm following," he said with a small laugh. "Are you guys still together or did you split up?"

"Honestly, I don't know." She sighed as she ran an unsteady hand over her ponytail. "I broke up with him but I don't think he accepted it. I'm not sure whether we're together still or not but…"

"So this is one of those you don't want to be with him but he wants to be with you situations," was his conclusion to it all.

"Not in the least. I want to be with him very much but not if he thinks he can control my life as he's been doing. I think a relationship should have two people in it, not one."

Richard stepped closer to her again and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I agree, so what say we make him so utterly jealous that he won't know what to do?"

She rolled her eyes as she gazed up at him. "Are you telling me that you are willing to stand up against Tom Riddle when very few people are?"

"Hell no, I don't have a death wish. I was meaning that you should find someone else, someone much bigger than me that could take on Tom if need be."

Hermione opened her mouth to refute the idea but then shut it. What Richard was suggesting could be beneficial to her in many ways.

Yes, she wanted to teach Tom a lesson about relationships, yada, yada, yada, but the very act could be distracting enough where he would not notice a few of his Horcruxes being destroyed. Maybe he wouldn't even notice _all_ of them being destroyed.

"Uh oh, I don't like that look," Richard said from beside her. "The last time you got that look the Minister locked himself up in his office for days."

"And so he should have. He had no right doing that to the…"

"Hermione, save the lecture," he interrupted. "Just what are you planning?"

"Oh, nothing much," she said with a small shrug. "I'm just considering what you just said. If I had another boyfriend then it would show Tom that I'm not dependent on him. It might just teach him that he should appreciate me more."

"No offence, Hermione, but I doubt Tom Riddle is going to change his ways just for you. He may have been a year ahead of me and in a different house but we all knew about him. He's not the kind of guy you want to take on."

"Which is why I'm going to have to find someone that isn't scared of him," she stated confidently. "And I will find someone."

"I doubt you can convince Tom that you're serious about another guy only from knowing him a couple of days," he commented as he turned around to pick something off the floor.

"Number one, I don't have to be serious about another guy, I just need there to be another guy," she corrected as he straightened back up.

"And number two?"

"Number two; I need the other guy before tonight."

Richard patted her back. "Good luck and I hope you survive," he said before leaving her alone with her thoughts.


	9. Chapter 9

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter**

**Thanks to Curse Weaver for being my beta on this one.**

**Nine**

Hermione was sitting quietly in the stands as she watched the Quidditch players practiced for their game on Saturday. She raised her eyes up to the Seeker who was zooming across the field.

She leaned back until she could stare straight up at him as he flew right over top of her, his eyes trained on the gold snitch flying directly in front of him. In one slick movement, he had the ball in his hand and was headed back towards the centre of the field. The other players joined him soon after, each giving him a congratulatory pat on the back.

His head then swung around until he was looking up at her and the smile slowly left her face. She watched as he said something to his team mates before hopping back onto his broom and flying towards her.

Only when he was safely landed in front of her did she allow the smile to slip easily back into place. With a few minor changes, he would have resembled his future grandson, Viktor. But Ivan Krum was quite handsome with very few flaws.

"Hello, Mr. Krum, I'm Hermione Granger." She extended her hand towards him and he took it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"Please, call me Ivan." Though he had an accent, his English was almost flawless, she noted. He must have read her mind for he said, "I've been playing for an English team for quite a while now and my mother was English. I spent most of my life in Bulgaria but my mother was adamant that I learned to speak English well."

"If it wasn't for your slight accent then I would never be able to tell that you're from Bulgaria," she informed him with a radiant smile. "You play well."

He smiled at her and motioned for her to take her seat again. He opted for the seat directly beside of her. "Thank you for your compliment but we still have a lot of work before we'll be completely ready for the game on Saturday."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll come out on top."

"And you'll come see me play, yes?" he questioned as he nudged her lightly with his shoulder. "Come and cheer me on?"

She grinned. She had only ever gone to the school games and that was only because of Harry and Ron. Well, she did attend the Quidditch World Cup but that was because of the boy as well. "I promise I will try."

"That is good then." He picked up her hand and kissed the back of her knuckles. "So I have been told that you are in desperate need of a favour."

Her brow rose. "Did Edward tell you exactly what I needed?" Edward was one of her few friends at the Ministry that worked closely with the Head of the department for magical sports.

"Well, not exactly. He told me that you were in desperate need of a big man who wouldn't be easily intimidated. So, what do I have to do?"

"Well," she drawled slowly, unsure of how to explain, "I was dating this guy who a lot of people fear, he's sort of scary you see, but now we're not." She smiled slightly. "Well, I'm not dating him anyway but he still maintains that we're dating."

"How can that be?" His brows furrowed in confusion. "If you have no wish to date him then how can he say that you are? There has to be two in a relationship."

"He's very…dominating. He's used to getting his way because so many fear him." She sighed and looked at him warily. "I guess this is the point where I should warn you that he is rather powerful with a wand."

"Ah, yes, well fear only lies in places where we create it." He grinned at her. "I'm afraid I don't understand what you need me to do, though."

"We had a huge row when I tried to break up with him," she explained, "and he started informing me as to what I was going to do and such. He's ordering me to attend a gathering with his friends tonight and…"

"And you have no intention of going, yes?" He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "So, I'm guessing that you wish me to stand between you and him so to speak."

"So to speak, yes. I know it's a lot to ask but I would greatly appreciate it if you could just pretend to date me for a while until he realizes that our relationship is over." Her eyes pleaded with him as she looked up with him. A lot rode on his answer.

"I'm very sorry, Hermione, but I never pretend to date," he told her with a slight frown and she lowered her head. "However, I am all up for dating you for real."

Her head lifted back up and she smiled at him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she hugged him tightly. "Yes, of course."

"Then I will pick you up at six this evening and we will go out to dinner. I'm warning you, though; I have a taste for muggle cooking."

"Oh that's no problem at all," she responded, "I happen to like muggle cooking very much as well. Personally I think the time and effort they put into preparation is much better than simply waving a wand and having the food prepare itself."

"I completely agree with you on that which is why I usually dine in muggle restaurants." He rose and then held out a hand to help her up. "Alright, Hermione Granger, as of today we are officially dating and this guy is no more." He bent down and pressed his lips lightly against her forehead. "I'll see you tonight."

She watched as he hopped on his broom and flew back down to the pitch where his team mates were just emerging from the showers. She then hugged her cloak around her and apparated back to her office where Richard was waiting.

"So?"

She grinned at him. "I just wish I would have met him before Tom. Ivan and I are going out on a date tonight." She hugged him. "I got to go find Edward. I owe him for this one."

**o!o**

Hermione put the finishing touches on her make up and stood back to admire the results. Though she had only used a bit of eye shadow and lip gloss, she looked considerably different. She suddenly realized how much she was actually looking forward to her date.

She brushed her curly hair behind her shoulders and ran her hands down the simple black dress she had bought on impulse after work. It was modest to the right degree and gave her an air of femininity.

She grinned as she caught sight of the roses that Ivan had sent over earlier. They were red and yellow with baby's breath filling in the gaps. He really was a sweet guy. Too bad she was already in love with Tom.

Whoa, she stopped mid-step, where had that come from? She didn't love Tom, she couldn't love Tom. He was the future Dark Lord who ruined her life and tried to kill her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door and she hesitated. Was she doing the right thing? Leading Ivan on like she was?

With a brief shake of her head she went over and pulled open the door with a smile on her face. It quickly fell when she saw that the person on the other side was actually Tom.

"A little dressed up aren't you?" he inquired as he pushed past her and entered the flat. "You look nice, though. However, as my friends are going to be in attendance, why don't you change into something a little more…plain?"

"I told you, I have plans for tonight that don't involve you and I have no intention of canceling them. So, if you'll just please leave and…"

"Who are those from?" he interrupted angrily, striding over to the vase full of roses. He snatched the card from within the flowers and ripped it open. "_Looking forward to tonight, Ivan_," he spat. "Who the bloody hell is Ivan?"

She walked over and took the card from him. "My date, that's who. Now, if you'll please excuse me, he should be here any minute to pick me up."

She had turned to pick up her cloak but turned back when he bit out a harsh, "No." She placed her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Excuse me? Who are you to tell me who I can and cannot go out with? In case you have forgotten, we're no longer together."

He stepped closer to her and gripped her arm painfully. "We _are_ together, Hermione, and you are not going out with this guy."

"I am and that should be him now," she said as someone knocked on the door. She ripped herself from his grasp and strolled over to the door, Tom following hot on her heels.

"These are for…" Ivan stopped when he caught sight of Tom glaring at him from behind her. He held out a hand. "You must be the ex. I'm Ivan Krum."

Tom ignored the hand and instead looked at Hermione. "A Quidditch player? You're dating a Quidditch player?" He grabbed a hold of her arm and wrenched her back away from the door. "I'm sorry but Hermione won't be able to go out tonight. We have an appointment."

"I think that should be for to Hermione to decide," Ivan interjected, taking a daring step forward. His dark brown eyes caught hers. "Hermione?"

Hermione smiled at him and then turned coldly towards Tom. "Have fun tonight, Tom, without me. I know I'll be enjoying myself with Ivan." She stepped away from him and took Ivan's outstretched hand. "Goodbye."

She tried to dismiss the feeling that rose up in her as she remembered Tom's expression when she shut him up in her flat. She looked up at Ivan and smiled.

He hugged her shoulders. "Don't worry, Hermione, everything will work out for the best." He kissed her temple. "Come on, Italian food always makes everything better."

She chuckled lightly and placed an arm around his waist as they walked down the stairs. "You know, you just might spoil me, Ivan Krum."

"It'll be my pleasure," was his response as he apparated them to an alley outside of the restaurant.

**o!o**

It was six long hours before Hermione returned to her flat with Ivan at her side. They were laughing giddily over a story he had just told her. His hand was splayed across the small of her back while hers was stationed on his stomach.

When they reached the door to her flat, she turned to him. "Thanks for the nice night, Ivan, I had lots of fun. It was nice to get out for a change."

"I had fun too," he said, leaning towards her. "So how about we do this again tomorrow night? We can go dancing or something."

"Don't you mean tonight?" she asked teasingly. "It's a little past midnight."

"Which is why he should be saying goodnight."

Both Ivan and Hermione turned to see Tom standing in his doorway with a glower on his face. He took a threatening step towards them and Hermione knew she was pushing it with his temper.

Reaching out, she touched Ivan's arm. "I'll see you later today, alright?"

He nodded and leaned down to press his lips quickly to her own. "See you tonight. Goodnight, Hermione, and sweet dreams."

She waited until she heard the sound of the door shutting downstairs before rounding on her neighbour. "What are you doing, Tom?"

"I'm making sure that you get in bed at a decent hour," he replied smoothly, striding towards her and taking hold of her arm. "Where did seeker boy take you?"

"To Ricardo's actually."

"A muggle restaurant?" he asked with disdain. He opened her door and pushed her inside, guiding her towards her bedroom. "You can do way better than him, Hermione."

"Oh, like who? Surely you're not talking about yourself?" She jerked her arm from him. "You don't even know what the word relationship means."

"What we _have_ is a relationship, Hermione. What we _share_ is a relationship. I know what the word means but I don't think you do."

"How many people does it take to make a relationship then, Tom? Because in the little thing we had that you call a relationship, there was only you and what you wanted. Everything had to be about you and maybe I'm being selfish but I don't want to be second best anymore. Is there anything wrong with wanting to be number one?"

"You were my number one," he argued.

"No, I wasn't," she said sadly with a small shake of her head. "I can never be number one while you're still on your little power trip." She framed his face with her hands. "I care about you, Tom, far more than I should, but I can't be with you."

She stepped away from him and into the safety of her bedroom. "I just can't," she whispered one more time before shutting the door on him.

She leaned against it and waited ten seconds before allowing the tears to fall. She wanted desperately to not feel a thing anymore but that was no longer possible. She felt far more than she should.

When the outer door opened and closed again, she bit back a sob. For some reason, the knowledge that he wasn't going to fight for her broke the last bits of her heart.

Her knees gave way and she fell to the floor, curling her knees up to her chest. She closed her eyes as she gave way to sleep.

**o!o**

Richard smiled sympathetically at her as she arrived five minutes late to work. She merely waved her hand impatiently at him as she flopped down unceremoniously in her chair.

"Are you alright?"

She laid her head down on her arms and peered up at him. "Give me ten minutes and I will be." She gave a groan. "Make that thirty."

He gave a gentle chuckle as he hopped up on her desk. "Was the date that bad?"

"Oh no," she answered, raising her head up a bit to look steadily at him, "the date was perfect. It was what came before and after the date that was horrendous."

"Tom?"

"Got it in one." She laid her head back down on the desk. "Why do we have to work today when almost everyone else doesn't? It's not fair."

He touched the top of her head. "Life isn't fair, Hermione. Sorry to break it to you, love, but that's the way it is and we can't change it."

She lifted her head up a bit and hit it back down on the table. "I hate life. Just when you think you've got it, something happens and you're on your own again in a whole new place."

"How come I'm getting the distinct impression that you're talking about far more than just Tom and your date?" Richard asked as he bent down and peered at her.

She stilled and then rose up completely so that she could look at him head on. "All I meant was that every time I get this whole 'life' thing down, it all changes and usually for the worse."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out. You're a bright girl that is very determined and powerful. You know what you want and I doubt you'll settle for anything less than the best." He patted her shoulder. "Just trust yourself. By the way, a dozen roses arrived this morning from a certain seeker along with a card stating his intentions."

She smirked. "You read my card?"

"Like any good friend, yes." He smiled and walked away, coming back with a vase filled with white roses in his hand. "Here, I've got it memorized: _Hermione, you are an amazing woman who I would love to see again and soon. I'll be counting down the hours. Ivan_."

She blushed a pretty pink and held her hand out to take them, but at that moment an owl swooped into the room. In its talons it carried a blood red rose with black shooting through it. It dropped the rose in front of Hermione before flying out again.

"Hey, there's a note attached," Richard observed.

"So there is," she muttered even as she hesitated. She had a sneaky suspicion as to who it was from. She found herself afraid of what the note might say.

He continued to stare at her. "Well?"

She peered up at him through innocent eyes. "Well what?"

"Are you going to open it?" he asked.

She continued to stare at it and then looked up at him. "I don't know…"

"Oh come on," he said as he nudged it towards her. "Quit being such a baby and just open it already. It can't be that bad."

"I don't…," she cleared her throat. "I don't have time. I have work that I need…"

"You think it's from Tom, right?" he interrupted. His shoulder lifted in a simple shrug. "You're probably right about it being from Tom, but you can't ignore it forever."

"But I can ignore it for at least a few hours," she countered, pushing it to the very edge of her desk. "I do have lots of work to do."

"Sure," he said with a roll of his eyes. He stood and walked away from her desk, waving his hand as he went. "Hope all your work goes alright and everything."

"Just go to your own desk," she said to his retreating back, "and leave me alone."

He turned back to her and smiled. "Bye Hermione, be sure to tell me what the note says."

She watched as he exited their tiny office, closing the door behind him. She ignored the rose and picked up a file that she had been avoiding for a couple of days and set to work.

An hour later, she finished with the file and set it aside only to cast a glance at the rose. She shook her head and reached for the next file. It, too, took her about an hour to complete, her research thorough and accurate. She may hate the job but no one could deny that she did it to perfection.

Around lunchtime, Richard dropped in and deposited a sandwich on her desk. "I thought you left," she said as he went to exit again. He smirked, "I am working, just outside where I can flirt with Haley."

She laughed as he left again. They both knew that Haley would never date him, or he her for that matter, but he took satisfaction in the chase. Three hours later she had completed four more files and the rose was still calling to her.

She grabbed it quickly and ripped the letter from around it, unrolling it. She looked to the door to make sure that it was still closed before gazing back down at it.

_Hermione,_

_I may not be the best man and I may not be the safest man, but I know that I am the man for you. I will not give up on us. _

_Tom_

She brushed the tears away and threw the note back down on the desk. She picked up the rose and twirled it between her fingers.

Merlin help her, but he was the one.

**Yeah, since I love Tom too much to keep him out of her life for long, Ivan won't be in the picture _that _long...**


	10. Chapter 10

**DISCLAIMER: I don't receive any royalties from Harry Potter...**

**Thanks to my beta: Curse Weaver**

**'bout had a heart attack...couldn't find the chapter on my computer but me, being my ditzy self, just saved it under something different...Here it is.**

**Ten**

Hermione slipped easily into the crowd as they wondered through the museum of magical artefacts. She held the pamphlet they had been passing out outside in one hand while her other hand rested just inside her robe on the handle of her wand.

Her lunch break would be over in exactly forty-five minutes so she had to get the Horcrux destroyed and get back to the office without getting caught. She had decided against breaking into the place at night as she was sure that there would be one too many wards in place.

A lady not much older than herself standing across from her smiled at her as the tour guide continued to drone on about something which supposedly belonged to Merlin. She managed to smile back and then turned her head away from the woman. She didn't want to encourage conversation.

Her eyes drifted to a statue erected in the middle of the building. Curious, she edged to the corner of the group to get a better look at it. Though she had only visited the museum once in her own time, she was sure that this statue hadn't been there.

When she was near enough to read the inscription, she froze. It displayed Albus Dumbledore defeating Grindwald while surrounded by various magical creatures.

She wondered where it was in her own time. "Nice piece of work, isn't it?" She turned her head and stared at the intruder. It was the woman from before.

"It's magnificent," Hermione replied honestly.

"He's magnificent," the woman countered. "He's so powerful and yet modest. You know, when I was at Hogwarts he was my favourite professor. I want to be just like him one day. I'm actually going to see about the Transfiguration position after this tour. I just had to come here and see this statue one more time before I go for courage."

Hermione stilled and looked closer at the woman, noticing small details that she hadn't noticed earlier. "I'm sorry; I didn't catch your name."

"Oh, excuse me. I do that all the time. I get so caught up in discussion that I completely forget to introduce myself. My name is Minerva McGonagall."

Hermione took her outstretched hand and shook it. "Hermione Granger."

"Holy Merlin! You're dating Tom Riddle."

Hermione smiled slightly. This carefree McGonagall was a nice change from the one she would experience in her own years. Obviously years of dealing with students would harden her. "Actually, we broke up. I'm seeing Ivan Krum now."

"Tom _let_ you break up with him?" she asked stunned. She instantly brought her hand up to her mouth in shock. "I'm so sorry; it's just that in school no one ever got the better of him. He controlled everything. Even older students, like me, were scared of him. Excuse me, I meant to say that they, we, still are frightened of him."

"And probably for all the right reasons," she said softly. She looked back to the statue. "He's not too happy with me at the moment. He's refusing to acknowledge that we broke up."

"And is Ivan alright with this?" Minerva questioned, placing a tentative hand on Hermione's arm.

"I'm not sure," she answered with a shrug. "He's still with me. We've been out three times already and he knows where it stands with Tom."

"Professor Dumbledore doesn't trust Tom," Minerva put in softly. "He never has. He was the only one while Tom was at school that didn't give way to him. We all knew that he didn't believe a word Tom said and we were sort of hoping that he'd catch Tom doing something bad."

"But Tom never gets caught," Hermione muttered, "and he never gives up, but neither do I." She smiled at Minerva. "Now, you should head on to your interview and get that job because you will. Good luck, Minerva."

The woman smiled and took a step away before pausing. "Hermione, would you like to have lunch sometime? It's nice to have someone close to my age to talk to for a change."

Hermione smiled and nodded. "Sure, just owl me sometime and we can do lunch. Good luck and remember, you will get this job. I'm sure of it."

"Thanks," Minerva said as she turned away and headed out of the museum. Hermione watched her retreating figure for a heartbeat before turning and getting back to the task at hand.

The object was out in the open. Obviously the guards were sure in their protection and didn't feel the need for the protection of wards and glass.

Hermione glanced around and edged to the back of the group yet still maintaining a clear shot between her and the goblet. She closed her eyes for a minute while she thought back to the inscription in the book and started muttering the incantation under her breath.

She slipped the very tip of her wand out of her robe and aimed it at the cup as she finished the spell, watching as the silver stream shot straight out of her wand and hit the cup, shattering it into dust particles.

The alarms went off and she wasted no time slipping through the throng of people rushing to see what happened. She looked around for any sign of guards and turned back towards the door, only to come face to face with Albus Dumbledore.

"Did you destroy it?" was all he asked and she knew that it would be pointless to lie to him.

Nodding, she said, "Yes."

Bending down, he whispered, "Go now and keep in the crowd. You won't stand out that way." Straightening, he looked down at her. "Be careful, Hermione."

She nodded and stepped around him and out into the sunlight. She blended easily into the crowd, some rushing to the museum to see what all the fuss was about while others merely strolled along at a leisurely pace.

Once she was a safe distance away, she apparated to the phone booth that would take her into the bowels of the Ministry. She glanced to the left, then to the right and stepped into the red contraption, dialing the number.

Richard was waiting for her with a large smile on his face as she entered the office. "Did you hear what happened? Apparently someone just broke into the Museum of Magical Artifacts and just destroyed the Hufflepuff cup."

"I heard. Everyone was talking about it," she said with a wave of her hand. She realized that many had seen her at the museum and that she shouldn't deny that she had been there. "Actually, I was there looking at the statue of Dumbledore when it happened. It was a madhouse so I left."

"You left?! Hermione, you could have gotten the story! That could have been the answer to everything. They couldn't deny you a promotion if you had turned in a top rate report on the whole fiasco. The Daily Prophet may have even paid you for the story."

"But I don't want a promotion," she argued, "and I certainly don't want to work for the Daily Prophet or any other gossip rag. I have every faith in the system," she lied, "and they will discover who did this."

"Sure they will," he said, rolling his eyes. He perched himself on her desk and patted her head. "Is something wrong with my little Hermione?"

"No," she answered instantly, a little too fast.

"Oh, I think there is." He hopped off the desk and went around until he was hunched down beside her. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her towards him. "So, what is it today? Did Tom come over and see you this morning?"

"For your information, I haven't seen him since that first night." She gave a bitter laugh. "It's funny, really. We always used to be bumping into each other at odd times and now it's like we live on two different sides of the world."

Richard frowned. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

She gave a soft sigh as she laid her head down his shoulder. "I don't know what I want anymore. Everything is just so confusing."

"Well, I got something that isn't confusing and that will cheer you up," Richard declared confidently, hugging her shoulders. "Ivan dropped by while you were away at the scene of the crime and left tickets for the game. He left three. Say you'll take me."

Hermione smiled teasingly as she looked up into his pleading eyes. "I don't know, I have such an army of friends and…" He moved his hand down to her side in a silent threat. "Oh alright, just don't tickle me."

"Oh thank you, thank you, thank you." He kissed her temple. "So who else are you going to invite?"

Hermione paused. "I not sure." She grinned. "Hey, I know. Just let me owl her and ask whether she wants to come or not."

"Who?"

"Minerva McGonagall. I met her today while I was in the museum."

"Hey, I know her. She was four years ahead of me in school." He looked at her. "She seemed a little stuck up when she was in school, always more concerned with work than with people. She hero-worshipped Dumbledore, though."

"She seems more mellow now," she said in an off hand sort of way as she jotted down a quick note. "Anyway, there's nothing wrong in caring about grades. I was that way when I was in school."

"Were you now? Well, you certainly don't seem like the worrying kind now." He hopped back on the desk. "So we have a date for Saturday then? Thanks for taking me, Hermione."

She stared pointedly at him and then at her desk. "Don't you have somewhere else to perch? Maybe in your own chair perhaps?"

"But then I couldn't be near you," he cajoled even as he hopped off the desk and walked over to his own desk. "But if you insist, I'll leave you alone…for now."

She chuckled as she finished the note and set it aside to send later. She hoped the other woman would give in to a little fun and go along. It would be nice to get to know her a bit better in this time and maybe she could find a confidante in her.

**o!o**

She swept her hair up into a ponytail as she walked up the path leading to Hogwarts. She twisted the tie around it and smiled as the sun hit her face. The receding days of August still maintained the warmth of summer.

She looked to the side and saw Hagrid working outside his little hut. She had met him twice during the two weeks she had stayed at the school and found him to be the same as she remembered him from the future. He waved to her and she returned it along with a smile. He had another one of his creatures in his hands.

Minerva came bustling out just as she reached the front doors. Hermione took in her severe black robes and tight bun and laughed. Minerva frowned and asked, "What?"

"This is a Quidditch game, Minerva, not a conference. Let your hair down a little and loosen up. I promise, Dumbledore won't think any less of you."

"But I just got this job and I don't want him to regret hiring me and…"

"Oh he won't," Hermione insisted, going around pulling the pins out of the other woman's hair. "And now you need to take off that dreary overcoat and put this on." She took off her own jacket that was a hazel colour and switched it with Minerva's robe.

"Are you sure?" she asked doubtfully. "I don't think I look very good in this…"

"You look beautiful," Hermione interrupted. "Now to disperse with these," she said as she pointed her wand at them.

"Hey, hey, those are my robes for school," Minerva said hastily as she went to snatch them from Hermione. "I still need those. I only bought four."

"You're young, Minerva, and you shouldn't be covering yourself in black. You can still maintain an air of severity while wearing colour and looking fashionable. You should try emerald green or maybe even forest green."

"Green?" She frowned. "Do you really think I could pull green off?"

"I know you can." She looped her arm through Minerva's and threw the black cloak down on the ground. "Now, let's go to the game and have some fun."

They walked down to the main gates and then apparated to the Quidditch pitch. Richard was waiting for them just inside the main gates with three large bottles of butter beer in his arms and a bag full of various treats.

"Hungry?" Hermione asked as she led Minerva over to him. "There's enough there to feed a small army."

He grinned. "I'll bet you that there won't be any left to eat within an hour."

"Wouldn't doubt it with your appetite," Hermione chortled. "Richard, this is Minerva. Minerva, this impossible git is Richard."

"I take offence to that," Richard said as he grinned. "Ignore Hermione, she's just mad because I didn't fall for her charms. However, here comes one man who just couldn't resist her."

"You would be right in that," Ivan said as he wrapped his arms around Hermione's waist. "I just have a minute but I just wanted to come over and say hello." He gave her lips a quick kiss. "The others are waiting for me in the locker room."

"Had to get a good luck kiss, eh?" Richard asked slyly with a roguish wink.

"Shut it, you," Hermione said, slapping his arm. She turned in Ivan's arms and kissed him quickly. "Good luck and be sure to win. I placed a bet on you."

"Then I wouldn't dream of disappointing you," he replied. He turned to Richard and Minerva. "If you guys have time afterwards then we should all go out and get a bite to eat."

"Sure," they both agreed.

"Alright, hate to run but I fear that I must."

Hermione gave him one last kiss before he turned and walked off. Her smile faltered slightly as she saw the number of females practically throwing themselves at him. He signed a few autographs on the way but she was happy to see that he practically ignored most of them.

"Come on, let's find our seats," Richard said, wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders. He manoeuvred them through the crowd and up into the stands. They weren't completely at the top, but they were close to the main box where the announcer would sit with any prestige members of wizarding society.

"Look at the view!" Richard cried as he gripped the railing before them and peered over. "This is amazing!" He turned to look at Hermione. "You better not break up with him."

"Nice to know that you only care about the tickets my boyfriend can provide," she countered with a teasing smile. "You can always date him."

"Thanks but I think I'll pass on that one." He wedged himself between Hermione and Minerva. "Ah, just what I like. Two beautiful women on either side of me and a Quidditch game. I can die a happy man now."

Hermione slapped his arm away while Minerva blushed a pretty pink. Hermione was surprised at her future professor's reaction. She had always seemed like such a stickler for the rules and not feeling any sort of romantic emotions and seeing her blushing was surprising.

"Hermione, just curious, how many games do you think you can get us tickets for?"

She looked at Richard and smiled. "Don't push your luck. I might decide to invite someone else next time. You're too annoying."

"I'm wounded," he said as he grasped his chest.

"No, you're not. Now hush, they're getting ready to do something."

The game went spectacularly well and Ivan managed to catch the snitch, ensuring a win for his team. He swooped down near her as he was completing a victory lap and tried to get her to go for a ride with him. She laughed merrily but wouldn't allow herself to be dragged onto the broom.

Richard continued to flirt unabashedly with Minerva throughout the course of the game. Hermione hoped that he wouldn't continue to lead her on.

They waited for Ivan outside of the team's locker room. He wrapped his arms around her once outside and kissed her soundly, the photographer's flash ignored. "I won," he whispered in her ear, "just for you."

She smiled up at him. "Good game, Mr. Krum. You played amazingly well."

"I must admit, I was showing off a little."

"A little?"

"Alright, a lot. I wanted to show off for you." He lowered his lips to hers once again. "Did I impress you?" he questioned softly against her lips.

"A little," she teased, pulling away from him slightly.

"Alright you two," Richard said, clapping them on their shoulders, "you're attracting attention. May I suggest a quiet restaurant where we can something good to eat? I'm famished and I do believe Minerva is as well."

"Just a little," she agreed, stepping up beside of Richard.

"Food it is," Ivan declared as he moved his arm up to wrap around her shoulders. He turned her around and led them away from the crowd to the apparation point where they could apparate to the restaurant he had mentioned earlier.

They were shown immediately to their table by a stunning waitress whose gaze lingered on Ivan a second too long for Hermione's liking. She placed a possessive hand on his arm, making sure that the woman clearly understood that he was spoken for.

She didn't even understand her possessive nature towards him, though. Sure, she cared for him and was even starting to like him a lot, but it was still Tom's face that lingered in her mind as she closed her eyes at night. Why couldn't she for once love the safe man?

"Hermione?"

Ivan's voice drew her out of her thoughts and she realized that she must have drifted off into space there for a minute or two. "Yes?"

"I was just asking what you thought of the pasta." He stared at her intently. "Where has your mind wandered to this time?" He smiled at her as one would to a child they were indulging as he patted her hand. "That's my Hermione, always drifting off."

She pulled her hand away from him sharply as her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "Please don't patronize me, Ivan. I am not a two-year old."

His eyes roamed over her figure freely and she felt insulted at the open look of appreciation for her figure in his eyes. "I can see that darling. Believe me, when I look at that little body of yours, my mind is far from children."

"What's gotten into you?" she hissed. She caught sight of two of his team mates nearby, jostling each other and having a good laugh at her expense. She realized that Ivan was just showing them that he wasn't all mushy gushy when it came to her.

She rose sharply and instantly had his hand around her arm. "Don't," he warned.

"I suggest you let her go, Krum," a new voice added to the fray, causing them all to freeze.

**Ah me, my love for Tom just wouldn't allow this Hermione-Ivan relationship for too long... All My Love,**

**MiZZ AmAyA**


	11. Chapter 11

**DISCLAIMER: I, sadly, do not own Harry Potter**

**Many thanks to my beta, Curse Weaver**

**Eleven**

_Myths are public dreams, dreams are private myths.  
--Joseph Campbell_

Hermione was torn between staying put and running away as fast as possible. She had stupidly convinced herself that with not seeing Tom maybe her feelings for him would dilapidate a bit, but oh was she wrong. All the emotions that had been repressing for days suddenly bubbled to the surface as his forest green eyes bore into her boyfriend.

Ivan pulled Hermione closer to him all the while keeping his gaze on Tom. "This isn't any of your business, Riddle, so just run on along."

"I made it my business, Krum, so just let her go." The corner of his lip lifted in a sneer. "She obviously doesn't want to remain in your company."

Hermione saw the impending fight and knew that she had to stop it as much for her sake as for theirs. She knew that if push came to shove that she would cheer for Tom. She turned until she was facing Ivan and gently touched his arm. "Let's just leave. I'm not that hungry anymore."

"I am," he said simply, basically ignoring her as he continued to glower at Tom. "Go on, Riddle, back to the little backdoor shop you work at."

Tom took a step forward and Hermione noticed the three large men behind him, including Mickelus Lestrange who she had met on one occasion. They each had their hands positioned on the handle of their wands, their eyes not straying far from Ivan. "Ivan, let's just…"

"Stay out of this, Hermione," he barked.

"Can't we all just get along?" Richard put in softly from behind her. They all ignored him naturally.

Hermione stared at Tom pleadingly until his gaze flickered down to meet hers. "Please," she whispered, her look conveying far more than her words.

He knew what she was asking and didn't want to acknowledge her silent plea. He shook his head slightly and then looked back at Krum. "Is this how you treat those you claim to care for, Krum? Looking at her crudely and embarrassing her in front of her friends so that you can save face in front of your drunk buddies? You don't deserve her."

"And you think you do?" Ivan scoffed. "She told me all about how you treated her, Riddle, and believe me, I would never treat her like that. You are the one that doesn't deserve her."

Hermione was a little fed up by now with both of them and jerked hard enough so that Ivan had to let go of her arm. "I'm beginning to think that _neither_ of you deserve me." She snatched up her bag and looked at Minerva and Richard who sat quietly in the background. "We're leaving," was all she said as she stormed from the restaurant.

**o!o**

Hermione continued to stare after the brown dot in the sky long after it flew out of sight, the letter it had carried here lying unrolled on her desk.

She knew it was meant in good faith but she still had to resist the urge of Incendio-ing until only ashes were left of the pesky letter. She really hated his interfering ways sometimes even if he only meant it with the best of intentions.

She turned and walked over to the letter, picking it up. Her eyes flickered to the window before quickly glancing back down at the letter in her hand.

_Hermione,_

_I have located another one of the collectables you are in search for. I think the rarity of this particular one may be of momentous value to you. If you have time, maybe you could stop by around twelve tomorrow and we could talk._

_A. Dumbledore_

She threw the letter back down on the desk and turned, crossing her arms over her chest. So now he thought that she needed his help to finish her mission.

That was Dumbledore for her, she reasoned, he was always meddling in stuff he didn't have any clue about. He knew not her reasons for attempting this dangerous task and yet he pretended that he did.

She picked up the letter and quickly stuffed it into the fireplace before lighting a fire in the grate. She watched until the flames had completely consumed the parchment before turning away and grabbing the nearest vase full of flowers.

After storming out of the restaurant last week, she had been thoroughly surprised by the completely different reactions from the two different men. It just proved how they were complete polar opposites.

Ivan had instantly bombarded her with various gifts meant to woo her and serve as tokens of his sincerest apologies. She had received a total of fourteen vases of roses in the week since she had walked out on him, four pieces of expensive jewellery, and six boxes of chocolates.

She had refused to see him, saying she had yet to forgive him for the way he had treated her. It was simply uncalled for in her opinion. Then he continuously hinted that she had something going on with Tom and was betraying _him_.

That had been the day after the incident. She had slapped him when he had said that. He looked shocked for a moment; she doubted any of his past girlfriends had ever slapped him but she refused to apologize for it. He had deserved the slap.

That was when he started the bombardment of trinkets and flowers. Really, it was getting rather annoying. She had sent all the jewellery back and passed the chocolate onto Richard. She had burned most of the flowers in a fit of rage, but sent some of them to Minerva to decorate her office. They were pretty…

Tom, on the other hand, was a completely different matter. He hadn't tried to apologize and he hadn't sent her useless stuff. She saw him sometimes and he just stopped and stared at her, his eyes sinking right through to her soul.

She had even run into him once, literally. He had been walking down the stairs and she had been going up. She hadn't been paying attention; ironically her mind had been on him, when they crashed together. She would have gone flying back down the stairs if it had not been for his arms shooting out and grabbing her.

She remembered the hot flames that had instantly shot through her body as he settled her back on her feet. His eyes had spoken the words his mouth refused to speak as he didn't step away from her but merely stared at her. He had nodded at her finally before stepping around her and heading on down the stairs.

She placed another vase of roses in the fire before putting the guard up in front of it. She loved magic, she decided, as she sat on the floor in front of the fire. It enabled her to have a fireplace in a flat where one admittedly shouldn't be. Damn handy it was too.

She was so frustrated with almost every male in her life at the moment. The only one that wasn't driving her bonkers was Richard. He had remained quite sympathetic towards her. He often invited her out to lunch which he shared with Minerva. The two had become quite close since last week, always having lunch together.

She picked up her bag and headed out the door. She had to get to work and she shouldn't be wasting useless time crying over spilt milk. She waved her wand in the air as she walked down the stairs, effectively locking the door.

She walked out into the warm sunlight, lifting her face up to the sun. She plastered a smile on her face as she walked down the street. She was oblivious to the second glances she received from men and some of the jealous looks she received from women.

She turned a corner and her smile widened as her chocolate eyes caught sight of a familiar person up ahead. "Cy!" she called loudly as she jogged up the street.

The devilishly handsome man turned towards her and grinned. "Hermione." He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly. "Long time no see."

She pulled back, her arms still locked firmly around him still, and laughed. "It's so good to see you again! You should feel ashamed, not coming to visit me. That was very naughty of you."

He chuckled and chucked her under the chin with his finger. "Sorry for that, darling, but I've been rather busy with work and everything. I have a few minutes now if you want to go grab a cup of tea or something."

"I was actually headed to work," she stated and watched as his lips started to turn down in a frown, "but you could walk with me if you want. I wouldn't turn down the company."

He must have seen the sadness in her eyes for he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and drew her into his side as he steered her down the sidewalk. "I heard about you and Tom," he told her. "I'm sorry it didn't work out."

She let a bitter laugh escape her as she turned her head to look up at him. "Don't offer your apologies yet. It's far from over." She turned her head back away. "There's just so much left unsaid and it can't be over until we resolve…everything."

"So why are you seeing that Bulgarian chap?"

She rolled her eyes back to him and saw that he was grinning. "Hear that through the grapevine too, I suppose?"

"Actually from Tom himself," he answered honestly. He looked down at her seriously. "I have never seen him so mad and that's saying something since he's been through a lot. He was itching to blow something up and I was starting to get nervous that it would be the Bulgarian."

"I was too," she muttered.

"So why did you start dating him?" he finally asked. "And don't give me any of that mumbo jumbo about a sudden spark between the two of you. You two have nothing in common. Were you just doing it to get a rise out of Tom?"

She turned her head away from him as she quickly thought about it. "Honestly, yes, it started out that way, but then I got to know Ivan and he was so sweet."

"Was?"

"Well, there was this blow-up last week at a restaurant. Ivan started acting all macho in front of all his Quidditch buddies and basically started treating me like I was his property. Tom happened to come in and intervened."

"So that explains his abnormally sour temper last week," he commented thoughtfully. "I thought he seemed more mad than usual."

"I doubt I was the cause," she replied with a hint of sadness in her voice. "He doesn't seem to care one way or another anymore about what I do or who I'm with."

Cy looked down at her but said nothing. He gave her shoulders a bit of a squeeze as they continued to walk down the street. He brought up a neutral topic that he knew wouldn't anger her in any way. They laughed and talked openly about stuff she normally wouldn't discuss with anyone, including Harry and Ron.

Finally, when they were nearing the entrance to the Ministry, Cy stopped her and turned her towards him. "Hermione," he paused as he looked down, considering his words, "don't try Tom, please. You don't want to be on his bad side, believe me."

She reached up and patted his cheek. "I know, Cy." She leaned forward and hugged him. "Thanks for being a friend; you don't know how much that means to me."

He pulled away and kissed her forehead. "Just be careful, Hermione. I don't want to see anything happen to you." He ran a hand over her hair. "I care about you."

She looked deep into his eyes, reading the message in them. "I will," was all she could find to say as she turned and walked over to the red phone box and shutting the door on it.

She turned and smiled at him as she punched in the last number and it took her down. He raised his hand in goodbye and she closed her eyes. Why did she always have to fall for the bad ones?

**o!o**

She honestly didn't know why she was bothering. She had been asking herself 'why' for the past fifteen minutes and she had yet to come up with a valid answer. She only had her stupid curiosity to blame for the whole thing.

Hermione was, at this precise moment, walking up the school grounds towards the castle. She was muttering under her breath as the rain pelted down, bouncing off of her thanks to a handy dandy water repellent charm. However, she was still cold and that did nothing at all to improve her mood.

"Stupid, blood…AH!"

As Hermione crashed to the muddy ground, she quickly flipped over to see what had tripped her. She saw something bushy running in zigzags away from her. If the colour of the fur gave any indication, it was probably one of Hagrid's creatures.

Sure enough, the half giant came running out of nowhere and, not seeing her, preceded to trip over her and send himself flailing into the mud. She stifled a giggle behind her hand and stood, holding out her hand to help him up.

"Your little pet tripped me," she teased admonishingly. "I guess it's only fair that _you _tripped over _me_."

He grinned sheepishly up at her as he hoisted himself up. "Er…Sorry 'bout that. Fluffer likes his runs. Can't stop the little bugger."

"It's alright." She smiled. "By the way, he ran off in that direction."

"Thanks," he said before running off. She watched him for a moment before looking down at her sodden clothes. Apparently the water repellent charm didn't work against mud. Shrugging, she started back towards the castle.

She swung open the doors and stepped inside, sending up a soft thank you to the house elves for keeping fires going. There were a few students milling about but most were in class.

She headed straight towards the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster's office and was almost there when the students started filling the hallways. She flattened herself against he wall as the students came barrelling in her direction.

A couple of students happened to notice her standing there and shifted slightly so they would not run into her. Others, on the other hand, weren't paying a bit of attention and thus shoved against her rather rudely since they never even took the time to apologize.

She was half tempted to hex a few of them, or at least to point out their actions, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. She whipped around to face the Headmaster.

"Glad you could make it. I was rather hoping you would have arrived earlier if only to avoid all the traffic, but alas, it didn't work out that way. Well, if you'll just follow me."

Hermione knew better than to argue with him and so just followed behind him as he led her, not to his office as she had originally thought, but to the trophy room. She gave him a questioning look when he held the door open for her but stepped inside.

She heard the door shut with a soft click but did not turn back to him. Her eyes greedily took in the awards lining the walls, searching for those that she remembered. Somehow the brown orbs found their way to the one labelled "Tom Riddle."

She quickly shot a dubious look at Dumbledore before stepping closer to the award. She ran her hands along the glass encasing it before silently opening the case. The magic practically crackled and she chastised herself for not feeling it in her own time.

"It's raw at the moment, Hermione, because unless I'm mistaken, it was just recently done." He stepped up beside her. "I was in here the other day and noticed that there was something different about it. The position was just too perfectly centred and I happen to know that a third year Gryffindor was serving detention the night before and wouldn't have bothered with getting it in the centre."

She smiled, secretly thinking of the number of times after one of Ron's detentions she would see the trophies thrown hazardously into their cases. She lightly ran her hand right in front of the cup, trying to sense any wards that may do her damage.

"I've already checked it," Dumbledore said, understanding her movements. "I figured that he has yet to figure out any large wards against those who wish to do his Horcruxes harm and merely sat a few obstacles in the way for now for the person wishing to destroy it."

She nodded thinking back to the other Horcruxes she had already destroyed. The charms placed on them had been relatively simple. She knew from what Harry had told her in the future that the wards on them would only increase.

She extracted the trophy from the case and looked up at Dumbledore. He nodded, reading her thoughts, and bared the door with powerful wards that would protect them from any unwanted visitors while she destroyed it.

She placed the trophy on the table that Dumbledore had conjured for her and extracted her wand. She moved it over the trophy slowly to try to get some feel for the curses put on the cup. Suddenly, she gave a bitter laugh and lowered her wand.

"Find something amusing?"

Hermione quickly cast a glance in his direction before redirecting her attention to the Horcrux. "Actually, yes. All the other Horcruxes had relatively tricky spells placed on them, but this one seems to only need a simple hex and it will be destroyed."

Dumbledore frowned as he turned to the cup. "Are you sure?"

"Quite." She looked up to see him still frowning. "Maybe he just never thought that you would assume a Horcrux would be in the school and thus never go looking for it."

"Maybe…" His words died in his throat as he reached out to it, stopping his hand midway and pulling it back.

She told him to step back- which he did- and then cast a light shield just in case it ended up shattering. Then, she raised her wand and said in a clear voice, "_Bombarda!_"

Never in all of her years had she experienced so much pain. The iron hot fire racing through her blood now put the few Crucios she had been placed under to shame. There were razor sharp knives piercing her body while pokers scorched her skin.

She heard a deafening scream only to realize seconds later that it was coming from her. Her head throbbed as something seemed to be squeezing at her brain.

Then, black.

**Sorry for the time it took to update...Midterms are coming up and Roman History is bugging me out...I'll try to update again before break.**


	12. Chapter 12

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**I won't be around much. Spring Break starts tomorrow so I will be away from the internet. Sorry.**

**Twelve**

_Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death._

_--Anais Nin_

At one moment, there were three children dancing in the garden before her. In the next they were swallowed up by the darkness and she was once again alone. Flashes of colour skittered across the horizon before they too were gone.

She knew she was not safe there so she turned away from the garden and onto the deserted street. The insignificant fact that were not any cars on the street was lost on her as she was lost in her thoughts. The street lights were dim but she wasn't paying any attention to where she was going anyway. She had a hand pressed to her head and was just walking wherever her feet took her.

She noticed the cold and went to cast a warming charm on herself only to notice that her wand was not where she usually kept it. Confused, she patted herself to see where it could be. She did not have it.

She then heard the sound. The gentle thrumming of a drum as it was hit softly and steadily. She looked around her, searching for the source of the sound but could not see anything.

Where was she? She turned around in circles as she tried to get a sense of where she was and how to get out. As she stood there, hedges grew at the end of the streets to block her in, closing off all the alleys.

"Hello?" she cried loudly. She wrapped her arms around her body and rubbed her hands up and down her arms in an effort to warm herself. "Is anyone there?"

There was no answer. Not that she thought there would be, of course. After getting a good look around, she determined that the place was quite deserted. There was no one to help her.

With nothing else to do, she sat down in the middle of the street and let the tears flow.

**o!o**

There were very few people lining the halls in St. Mungo's today so it was relatively easy for Tom Riddle to manoeuvre through the winding corridors towards his ultimate goal. The look in his eyes made any that dared to get in his way to leap out almost immediately.

He stopped in front of a white door and pounded on it. He didn't step back while he waited and after a few seconds he hit the door again.

The door opened upon the second knock and Cygnus Black stared up at the man before him. "My…"

"Not here," Tom hissed before shoving his way into the room and pulling Cygnus in after him. He then waved his hand and made the door slam shut. "Only call me Tom in public."

"Yes, my lord," Cygnus said, bowing his head slightly. "What can I do for you?"

Tom sighed and ran a hand through his unruly hair. "I need your help. Actually, I need you to brew a potion for me."

His forehead creased slightly in confusion. "What sort of potion, my lord?"

"I'm not exactly sure at the moment," Tom answered slowly. "I'm still trying to figure out what exactly happened to her and they won't tell me anything. Dumbledore is keeping it all hush-hush which makes me wonder what he had to do with it all. There's something important that he's trying to keep concealed."

Cygnus nodded and then paused. "What happened to who?" He put the plant he had in his hand down on the table. "This potion is not for you?"

"No."

"Then who…?"

Tom looked straight into his eyes before answering, "Hermione."

**o!o**

The wood gave a loud creak as she pushed open the door of one of the houses. Her stomach was lurching and she was hungry. She winced when it gave another loud groan as she closed it behind her.

She had decided that crying wouldn't help her out of this place. She would have to use her wit to leave. There weren't any clues as to where she might be but if she could get far enough away to find help then she figured she could get back to Hogwarts.

The last thing she remembered was destroying the Horcrux. Something had poured into her when the spell had hit the trophy, something dark and hot. It had burned her blood and ate at her energy. She could only assume that wherever she was was due to the destruction of the Horcrux.

She looked around for a minute before going in search of the kitchen, but what she discovered was only an empty room with an empty refrigerator and pantry. She couldn't even find any dishes to put food on.

She slammed the refrigerator door shut and slid down the front of it, drawing her knees to her chest. She growled loudly and slammed her elbow back into the metal. She was so mad that she really didn't feel the pain in her elbow.

She glanced to her left and happened to see a small door. She slid over to it, not really caring that she was getting her jeans dusty, and twisted the knob. It didn't open. She hit her palm against the door and cursed loudly. She rested her forehead against the wood and shut her eyes.

She hit her palm against the wood again and then drew back, her eye looking around frantically. She saw a wrench lying near the sink and stood up to get it. She palmed it, judging the weight, before swinging it as hard as she could at the small door.

It took a couple good, hard hits but the door eventually splintered. She let the wrench fall to the floor as she bent to pull some of the wood out in chunks. She cleared out a whole big enough for her arm to fit through. She stuck her arm in and began to feel around in the dark.

Any normal person, like your lovely author, would have felt a little nervous about feeling around in a dark, creepy space that you couldn't see into but Hermione had reached that point of desperation a long time ago where she would do just about anything for food.

Her hand came in contact with something cold and she froze. That was aluminium, she was sure of it. She quickly turned her hand over so she could grab hold of it and pulled it back through the whole.

It was a little rusty but it was food, she told herself as she took the can of beans over to find something to open it with. She didn't really care if she had to eat it right out of the can, she just wanted the food.

They didn't taste all too great, she soon discovered with a small frown. She raised it up and saw that it had expired quite a long time ago. She fought a little against her hunger before shrugging and taking another bite. She went back to the small door while eating her beans and tried to peer into the dark space.

She pushed the can away and shoved her arm back through the whole. She pulled out a couple more cans of food as well as some candles and matches. She did a small celebration as she sat the cans up on the counter and lit one of the candles for exploration purposes.

She walked out of the kitchen and looked down the empty hall. She turned right and walked to the end of the hall where there was a rickety old staircase. She glanced at it doubtfully and even hesitated when she heard the loud creak as soon as she put the least bit of weight on it.

"I must be desperate," she muttered as she took a deep breath and took another step. She slowly made her way to the top, trying to ignore the painful groans from the stairs. She was also talking to herself a fair deal to convince herself that they would not collapse.

There were three empty bedrooms at the top and one bathroom. She opened up the wardrobes and saw that the clothes were left hanging though they were considerably outdated, even considering the time period she was currently in. She took out an old blue wool dress and held it up, amazed by the pristine condition it was in.

She hung the dress back in the closet and frowned. What now? She thought as she went over to the bed and sat down on it. Surprisingly it was quiet soft and she bounced once or twice.

She lay back on the bed with every intention of just resting her eyes for a few minutes. She ended up falling to sleep, though, and would wake back up until much later.

**o!o**

Cygnus was brewing like he had never brewed before.

Along the counter he had a wide range of potions ready for whenever Tom came back. He had been able to get some clues that pushed him in the direction of what sort of potions to make but until they gave him some more information he wasn't sure he could do all that much to help.

He turned off the flame and stirred the potion he was currently brewing a couple more times. He lifted some up in the ladle and smiled. It was the perfect colour of tangerine orange. He picked up a vial and scooped some of it in before marking it.

"What else?" he muttered as he flipped through his book of potions he had to help him in his practice of plants in potions. He stopped at one page and smiled. This was one he hadn't tried yet but it _could_ help.

He scooped some gillyweed from a jar and put it in a mortaras he waved his wand to empty his cauldron to start over. He then turned on the burner once more and put some tree sap in the cauldron.

As he allowed that to boil for a little while, he began to grind up the gillyweed into an icky mess that looked like the rather disgusting thick cough syrup that one only buys when they are desperate. That done, he went over to the glass case and picked out a single white rose. He pricked his finger quickly; making sure the wound would produce enough blood, and allowed the red liquid to drip on the petals.

White and red were evil contrasting colours, he briefly thought before snipping off the bloody bud and allowing it to fall in the mortar. He began to grind it once again, watching as the petals were swallowed up by the brownish-black goo.

He added a pinch of salt- which, coincidentally, isn't just for kitchen cooking- and a teaspoon of snake venom to the simmering cauldron. It hissed for a moment before settling down and he moved on to the next step which was to add thirteen black belladonna berries. Usually the berries weren't used in potions as the leaves or roots were the real value, but they did have some plants with the berries on them.

The berries went in next, turning the potion an electric blue colour. He stirred it four times counter clockwise and then three times clockwise. He waited precisely one minute before pouring in the goo had been mixing together and stirred it in.

The last step called for one tooth from a Venus fly trap and he hesitated. He wasn't sure whether they would have any of the muggle plant in storage and he had foolishly forgot to look at the ingredients before starting. Luckily the potion had to simmer for ten minutes before he could add it so he did the only thing he could think of.

He apparated to an American boardwalk somewhere in the backwoods and joined in with a group of beer drinking southerners that wore cut off rebel shirts and torn jeans.

"Well, Bubba, them there people back there said that there ain't to be any drinkin' so I guess we's just a better get rid of our drinks right now," one who had a gut the size of England said, patting his stomach affectionately.

"You're right, Otis, like always. Reckon we should just drink 'em up so they ain't got no reason to yell at us," the other, who was just a bit slimmer, drawled with a chuckle. Cygnus noticed his cheek was protruding slightly and almost didn't stop himself from gagging.

**Author must state at this time that she is in NO way making fun of hicks for she is one herself. This is just a convo she heard while at a boardwalk and just wanted to put it in. Thank you.**

Beer and tobacco? He placed a hand to his mouth and scooted past the individuals without losing face by showing them just how disgusting he thought they were. He hurried on along and found just what he needed.

Unfortunately it was not along the edge of the boardwalk and there were some people nearby that may take case with him just prancing on their precious protected land. He looked left and right and- upon noticing that none of them were really looking at him- slipped his wand from his pocket.

"For Hermione," he whispered before whispering the spell that made him blend in perfectly to his surroundings. This way he could even apparate without anyone really seeing.

He stepped carefully onto the soggy ground, sure to be careful not to step on anything as he made his way over to the Venus fly trap. He then removed a pair of tweezers in his pocket and extended them towards the plant. He just managed to pull one long tooth from the plant before it shut itself up, thinking it had captured a fly or bug of some sort.

Smiling triumphantly, Cy apparated back to his work station within St. Mungo's. The timer said he had to wait three more minutes before he could add in the tooth so he went ahead and marked the new potion vial.

When he dropped the tooth in, which had to be dipped in mooncalf urine- disgusting yes, but think of those poor folks that had to collect it. Black vapour steamed from it before clearing. Cy peered down into the cauldron to observe the cinder colour liquid before smiling.

According to the end descriptions in the book, he had got the potion just right. He turned off the flame and allowed it to sit for a minute before scooping up some to put in the vial. He then placed it among the others and leaned back against the table.

He had reached the end of the book and he didn't know any more potions that he could possibly make to help. He only hoped for Hermione's sake that one of them worked.

Tom would kill him if it didn't.

**o!o**

Albus Dumbledore was not a man known for frowning. Most would state that the present Headmaster only frowned on severe occasions, usually when he was in the presence or talking about one Tom Riddle. However, the said young man was not in the vicinity so those who saw the Headmaster frowning knew he was tore up about whatever was in his thoughts.

Few knew that he had been in the room with Hermione Granger when she had attempted to destroy the Horcrux; no one knew that they had been destroying a Horcrux. He had merely stated that he had requested to see her to talk about work when she ended up in her present state.

Many were worried about her as was Albus, but it was one guy's worry that made Albus' multiply tenfold. He had really thought that Tom would have moved on by now, but it surprised him when Tom had shown up demanding to know what had happened to her. He genuinely wanted to help.

He raised his head at the thunder of footsteps coming down the hall. He lowered it again when it was just who he suspected it to be.

"Albus," Minerva said as she stopped in front of him, "you need to go and get some rest. You haven't slept in a long time and it's beginning to show."

"I will later, Minerva," he answered shortly.

"No, you should go now," a new voice said and Albus looked up at the new person. He recognized him as the guy who had been coming lately to visit Minerva and as a former student of his- Richard. "You're not doing her any good by depriving yourself of some sleep."

He looked from one to the other and nodded slowly. He stood from his seat and clapped a hand on both of their shoulders. "I will be back in an hour or so."

"You're not leaving yet," a new voice said and they all turned towards the new voice. Tom Riddle stood in the middle of the hall with his arms crossed over his chest. "Not until you tell me what happened to Hermione."

"You have been told…"

"Nothing," Tom hissed, striding forward. "I have been told nothing and I'm sure it was on your orders."

"Tom…"

"The way I see it, you have two choices. You could not tell me and it could be weeks before those imbeciles can help her."

"Or?"

"Or you can tell me and I can help her now."

Dumbledore stared at him for a moment. "What makes you think you can help her when no one else can?"

"Because whether you want to admit it or not, I've got the means to help her." Tom crossed his arms once more and didn't break eye contact. "I've already got people working on it; I just need to know a little bit more before I can do anything."

Dumbledore turned his gaze from Tom to Minerva and Richard. They each just stared back at him. Finally he looked back at Tom. "Alright."

**o!o**

Hermione woke to feeling of someone steadily coming closer to her. She sat up straight and clutched at her chest as something exploded near her and the house shook. She scurried off the bed and ran down the stairs.

The door opened after a little struggle and she ran out into the deserted street. She looked around frantically but couldn't find the source of the explosion.

"Hello?" she screamed loudly. "Is anyone there? Hello?"

"Hermione…"

It was like a whispered caress and she shivered from the warm breath that swept over her. She looked around but couldn't find anyone that could have possibly whispered her name.

"Hello?"

"Hermione…"

She looked up at the sky, staring at the dark clouds overhead. "Tom?" she whispered, tears filling her eyes. "Please, help me…"

"Hermione…"

She felt the ground beneath her shake. When it gave a violent lurch, she fell to her knees and barely avoided hitting her head. A crack formed in the asphalt, running up the length of the street. She watched it with wide eyes when the two sides slowly started to pull apart.

"Oh holy hippogriff," she muttered as she scooted away. The street was crumbling from the middle and moving out, towards her. She tried to get up and run away but she couldn't stand.

She managed to crawl to the sidewalk just as the last bit of road crumbled. She screamed as her foot slipped and she fell into the pit, only stopping herself by grabbing hold of the ledge.

"TOM!"

**o!o**

Tom took the vials from Cy and quickly read the labels. He chose one from the rest and held it up. It was the last potion that Cy had brewed, the one that required the Venus fly trap tooth. "This one I think."

Cy nodded and handed him another vial just to be sure it was enough. "I've never brewed this potion nor have I seen anyone use it so I don't know how much you'll have to give to her."

"I'll try a little at first," he said with a nod.

"Did they ever tell you what was wrong?"

Tom looked at one of his followers and decided to just tell the truth. From what he had been told, Cy wasn't a competitor, he was merely a friend to Hermione. "Apparently she came in contact with some very dark magic and is currently fighting it. If we don't get to her soon, though, then the magic will consume her and we will never be able to wake her up."

"Will they let you in her room to administer the potion?"

Tom had a hard look in his eye as he said, "They will. I've already been to see her right after I found out to see how far gone she was and she's bad. This is my last hope.'

"Good luck then," Cy said as he bowed his head.

Tom didn't say anything as he walked out of the room and down the hall towards the room where they were keeping Hermione's prone form. He brushed angrily past the Healers and took a seat on the bed.

"Hermione," he whispered, touching her forehead. "Come on, Hermione; hang in there a little bit longer."

"What do you think you're doing?" demanded an older Healer with a bald head.

"I'm saving her life," Tom hissed, "something you imbeciles are obviously unable to do." He touched her lips to part them then tipped her head back. He slowly poured the potion between her lips and waited for a moment or two. "Come on, love, fight the darkness. You can do it."

She shook in his arms as beads of sweat appeared along her hairline. He lifted her up a bit and moved so he would be behind her and she would lie back against his chest. "Fight it, love," he whispered as he uncorked the other vial and began to slowly pour it into her mouth.

Her spasms grew more violent and he had to keep a tight hold on her. "Stop!" the Healer yelled. "You're killing her."

He looked up at the man and his eyes flashed red. "I would never hurt her," Dumbledore walked into the room at that moment and Tom looked at him, "unlike others who pointedly put her into danger."

He moved his hand up to her forehead. "Come back to me, Hermione." He pressed his lips to her temple. "Fight it, love."

She shook once more before her body calmed and her breath steadied. He pulled her closer to him and wrapped his arms tightly around her, his lips right at her ear. "Wake up, Hermione."

Brown eyes met green as they snapped open. Hers widened before she laid her head back against him with a relieved sigh. "Tom," she whispered, her hand locking around his.

He kissed her temple once more as he ran his free hand over her hair. "It's alright, love, everything is going to be alright."

He lifted his eyes so that they stared straight at Dumbledore. "I promise that I won't let anything happen to you," he whispered in her ear. "I promise."

**Again, I'll be away for a while... I need this break! I'm going to try to wrap up negotiations with my Muse over break and attempt to finish both this and WoT**


	13. Chapter 13

**DISCLAIMER: Unfortunately, I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter 13**

**"The only difference between me and a madman is that I'm not mad." ****- Salvador Dali**

Hermione went in and out of consciousness over the next few days as she was fed potion after potion to help her recover completely. Every time she came too, though, one thing was the same- Tom was always near her, watching over her.

She managed to get out of the bed two days after she woke up, though her body protested. She had to lean on Tom for support as she walked around the room. Ivan never even came to visit her.

Richard and Minerva were in quite a lot to check in on her, as was Cygnus who was also constantly bringing different potions for her to drink. She was grateful for their presence for it gave her a rest from constantly thinking about Tom.

Speaking of which, he was now sitting in the chair watching her steadily while she picked at the few dishes the house elves had delivered. She would occasionally lift her eyes up to meet his before turning her gaze to the plate. Though he did not question her, she knew that it was only just a matter of time before he added two and two together.

His eyes were glued to her as his mind whirled with different scenarios. Though he would never admit to anyone- he had trouble admitting it to himself even- he had been genuinely scared that he was going to lose her.

He didn't like the feeling; he really, _really_ didn't like the feeling.

He watched the way her bushy hair fell forward, nearly masking her face from his view. By all means he should hate it, it was quite messy after all and he always got the best. But there was something intriguing about it that made him want to embed his hands into it.

The face behind the rat's nest was quite plain and not nearly as beautiful as half the women he had had during his years. She didn't take time to adorn it either with a load of makeup. She was naturally lovely in that way, not needing makeup to enhance her looks.

She wasn't into the normal frivolous things that normal females were into either. She befriended Minerva and Richard, two of the strangest people that Tom had ever met and yet he could completely see their compatibility. Unfortunately, if asked he wouldn't be able to tell the comparisons between himself and Hermione.

So why did he want this one female who was his complete and total opposite?

There was no real explanation. He should just have allowed her to die and got her out of his mind and…wherever else she was for good. His insane feelings for her were ridiculous.

On top of all that, he knew she was keeping an important secret from him. He could tell from the shifty ways her eyes darted when he would mention certain things or at certain times. When they were dating there were times when she wouldn't even come near him. Those were the times when he desperately tried to invade her mind but she would put up a firm mind block and stalk off.

Her eyes shifted behind her veil of brown hair and met his with a slight hesitance. He noticed a little worry lurking behind the chocolate eyes. He pushed gently into her mind and was greatly surprised when she allowed him to slip in just a bit.

"_I'm disappointed that you don't trust me enough to stay out of my mind and merely ask me what you're wanting to know."_

Tom frowned at her and pushed his way back into her mind.

"_Would you answer me truthfully if I did? No, don't answer that, we both know that you wouldn't. You keep many secrets from me, Hermione, and I will discover them one day."_

"_Maybe, maybe not. We all have secrets, Tom, and I'm sure that you probably have way more than I do."_

"_Hermione…"_

"_Tom."_

She pushed him out of her mind easily and turned her eyes away, refusing to meet his gaze as she lifted the fork to her mouth. The potatoes were bland to her, the flavour nauseating her more than anything.

She heard him rise from his chair and assumed that he was leaving. She lowered her head further, biting her lip to keep the tears at bay. She threw up her head, though, when she felt the bed depress and saw Tom sitting right beside her.

"What?"

Tom didn't say anything right off and reached out to touch her cheek softly. She stared straight into his eyes as his hand slowly moved up and down her face. He cupped her jaw and tilted her face up, observing her closely.

"What?" she repeated, more firmly this time.

"What is it about you?" he asked softly, adding a bit of pressure to his grip on her chin. "You are far from the most fetching witch I have ever seen and yet it is you that I'm desperately panting after. What possible reason could I have for wanting you when I can have anyone else?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed angrily on his as she jerked her chin out of his grasp. When he reached out a hand for her, she slapped it away angrily with a slight hiss. "If you want one of your whores then go, I certainly don't need you."

Instead of reacting in the angry way she naturally assumed he would, he laughed. He leaned back his head and laughed loudly. "Oh Hermione, but you are wrong. I do need you and you need me more than you'll ever admit to."

Hermione turned her head away and glowered. "I don't need anyone."

Tom didn't comment and instead scooted closer to her on the bed. She tried to inch away without drawing attention to herself but he caught hold of her arm and held her in place as he pressed right up against him. His hand moved into her hair as he roughly pulled on it, making her head tilt back.

"You belong to me," he hissed. "You always have belonged to me and you always will. I suggest you remember that." Without waiting for her to respond, he smashed his lips to hers.

She refused to return it at first, pushing against his chest with all the might she had but the sound of the tray crashing to the ground made her aware of the situation around her. She relaxed only slightly in his arms, pressing harder against him. She nipped his lip with her teeth, tugging on it and only released it when he squeezed her breast.

"Tom," she groaned as she pulled back, putting her hand up in front of her mouth to prevent him from kissing her again, "I don't know if I can do this with you…"

"Sure you can," he urged, moving towards her again.

She jerked away roughly and got off the bed on the other side. She backed clear to the window as he stood between her and the door, though she wouldn't be able to get out anyway as she was still technically a patient of St. Mungo's and therefore couldn't really leave until they signed her release papers.

"Just leave me alone please," she whispered on a sob. "Please, just go."

Tom shook his head as he stepped around the bed and walked slowly towards her. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Hermione. You see, I haven't quite got you out of my system yet. You're like a drug, addicting me, making me crave more. I'm not through with you yet."

Hermione shook her head sadly from side to side even as he advanced on her. She knew that he would have her one way or another, it didn't really matter whether she protested him or not. "No…"

"You want me, Hermione," he urged as he stopped in front of her, pressing right against her body, "and you just won't admit it. I'm done playing games with you, darling. No more pretending, no more other people, just us. Just you and me and this," he said before capturing her lips once more with a brutal passion.

She moaned loudly as his tongue guided easily between her lips, tasting the bland potatoes she had previously eaten and smiling slightly at the way she gave in. He tangled one hand in her hair while the other went down to her lower back to press her tightly against him. He made sure that his hips were angled just so she could feel the entirety of his erection pressing against her before pulling away.

He tugged on her hair, tilting her head back so she stared straight into his eyes. "You will not have any further communication with Ivan Krum again, is that understood?"

She only nodded in answer, nipping her lip with her teeth. The pressure released on her hair and she let her head fall slightly so she was looking straight at his chest. His hand moved from her hair to her cheek.

"Hermione." She looked back up at him- at least he didn't force her to- and stared straight into his green eyes. "What truly happened that day with Dumbledore?"

For the briefest of moments, she considered telling him everything. That moment of brief insanity soon passed, though, and she closed her eyes. Her strength at the moment wasn't that good and she knew that he could easily break down her barriers if he tried.

"I don't remember," she replied weakly. It was a very pathetic plea for innocence, she knew, and she wouldn't have believed herself so she had no false illusions that Tom did.

"Don't lie to me, Hermione," he hissed, leaning towards her.

Her stubborn pride had her straightening her back and meeting his gaze head on. "Fine, I don't want to tell you what happened. Don't ask me or I will have to lie to you."

"Hermione…"

"Tom…"

They glared at each other, their bodies flush together. Neither were willing to give in and break eye contact first. Both had their stupid pride.

Finally, Hermione leaned a little closer and tilted her head up in defiance. "You have your secrets, Tom, and I have mine. You do your dirty deeds and I do mine. The system has worked thus far and I think we should…"

"Obviously it wasn't working considering we ended up taking a break for a while," he retorted in an angry growl. His one hand moved to her hip which he squeezed.

"No, Tom, our relationship did not work before because you weren't willing to commit to it. Our relationship didn't work because you got the stupid notion in your head that you could control me when I am my own person. Secrets didn't tear down our relationship."

Amazingly, he seemed moderately surprised by her angry outburst. Perhaps it was because she was so violent when she shouted at him, jabbing his chest with her finger with each point. He deserved it though, she reasoned to herself, he deserved every accusation she threw his way.

Tom Riddle wasn't a person to remain shocked for long, though, and soon had her slammed up against the window, her hands pinned above her head in a quick move. "We had a perfectly fine relationship, Hermione, until you ended it and went off with that Bulgarian oaf, but no more. You belong to me and no one else. You will always belong to me."

She met his gaze straight on and replied stoically, "And you to me."

**o!o**

Abraxas Malfoy sat in the company of Cygnus Black and Cy's latest woman at the Three Broomsticks. He was ignoring his companions for the moment and was instead tapping one finger on the rim of his glass, lost in thought.

He had seen his friend and lord break down the other day and he had to admit, it was quite surprising. Tom had always remained a pillar of strength which was one reason he gained followers so easily; he had never let anyone or anything get close enough to him to cause him worry.

Admittedly, there had been moments when Abraxas had questioned his lord's motives, especially when that chit he was seeing had started dating that Krum fellow. Tom was blowing everything up and cursing anyone who dared to question him; he had been quite out of control.

And then, when that chit had ended up in the hospital, Tom was by her side in an instant and doing everything possible to help her. It was all rather sickening to Abraxas- the girl wasn't even pretty!- and it only made it worse to have him stuck by her side even now after she was regaining strength.

Pitiful weak creature…

Only Abraxas was no longer sure who he considered the weaker creature- that Hermione girl or Tom for letting himself become a lovesick fool.

"Abraxas?"

Ice-blue eyes rose to meet Cy's across the table and he cocked a brow slightly in an impatient manner. "What, Black?"

"What's up with you today?" Cy asked, oblivious to Abraxas' sour mood. He gave a small little laugh. "You were sitting over there scowling to yourself. I hope you haven't finally displeased yourself."

"I would never be displeased with myself," he practically growled in return. He sat up straight in his chair and glared at his two table mates. "For your information, I was _thinking_, Black, something I'm sure you're quite incapable of doing."

"Hmm," Cy hummed slowly, staring straight back at him, "then I can only simply wonder how you think I got the job as a Potions Master at St. Mungos."

"Congratulations, Black," Abraxas drawled sarcastically, "I'm sure you're quite proud of your accomplishments in the Potions field."

"I am," Cy answered stiffly.

"Maybe I should go," Cy's companion said softly.

Cy's instant, "No, no," was easily countered by Abraxas' loud, "Maybe you should." The two men glared at each other while the woman slipped from the table and out the door.

"What is your problem?" Cy practically hissed, leaning slightly over the table towards him. "You're acting like some bird just denied you in bed."

"No woman has ever denied me. For your information, Black, I was just thinking about the situation Tom has found himself in."

"What about Hermione?" Cy's voice held a note that warned Abraxas that he was quite close to the girl and didn't want to hear anyone speaking ill of her.

"It's quite apparent that she's had a very bad effect on Tom, one that I would like to put a stop to before it gets too far and you're going to help me."

"If you think I'm going to let you do anything to Hermione then you're mistaken. Tom actually cares for her so I doubt he'll let you do anything to her either."

"Tom won't find out," he said with a note of finality in his voice. Cy opened his mouth to say something but quickly shut it once more. His eyes spoke volumes, though, and Abraxas guessed what he was going to say. "And you're not going to tell him either."

Cy shoved the table roughly towards Abraxas and stood. The room around them grew quiet as they stared at the two men who were glaring at each other. "I will not take part in this," Cy growled angrily before storming out of the building.

Abraxas watched him go with an amused expression and then slipped the wand back into his pocket. Then, he raised up himself and picked up his cloak, throwing it over one arm and walking out of the establishment himself.

Oh yes, he would put a stop to all this foolishness and not even Cygnus Black could stop him.

**I am SO very, very sorry for the time it has taken me to get this up. My only excuse is that I've had the past month from hell and it's still not over. I want to thank everyone who has patiently waited on me. **

**My apologies,**

**MiZZ AmAyA**


	14. Chapter 14

**DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter...**

**Chapter 14**

_The sorcery and charm of imagination, and the power it gives to the individual to transform his world into a new world of order and delight, makes it one of the most treasured of all human capacities. --Frank Barron_

Hermione shifted the last of her stuff around in her flat which seemed to be bursting with stuff she couldn't remember buying. When she had arrived home from the hospital, the first thing she had noticed was how dirty her flat was. It was only later when she was shoving the couch did she remember the Healer's warnings on moving heavy objects, but by then she figured she had moved enough stuff that a few more pieces of furniture couldn't possibly hurt that much.

Wrong.

As she straightened, the muscles in her back and legs protested and her arms were throbbing. If that didn't hurt bad enough, she felt as if her head was about to explode.

"The Healer told you not to over do yourself."

Hermione spun around to see Tom glowering at her from her door which she had been sure she had locked when she entered. "I see you still haven't learned the art of knocking."

He merely shrugged in his arrogant way and moved closer to her. "I don't see why you even bothered with locking it. You knew I would come over as soon as I discovered you had checked yourself out of St. Mungo's."

She went to step away from him, but stopped as her body protested against the movement, attempting to disguise the pain on her face. She failed.

He was instantly at her side, lifting her up into his arms easily despite her efforts to push him away. Admittedly, she didn't have quite a lot of strength to do so, but it was more the principle of the matter more than anything.

"Quit struggling, hellcat, and let me help you before you hurt yourself," he growled, tightening his grip on her. He lowered her onto her bed and, before she could move, pinned her wrists down so that there was no possible way of her escaping.

"Let. Me. Up." She narrowed her eyes to angry slits that she figured could rival his own. "Now."

"I don't think so." He smiled down at her. "Wouldn't want for you to end up in the hospital again, now would we? They only released you on the grounds that you would keep yourself from winding up there again."

"I'm perfectly fine."

"Uh huh." It was evident from his tone, if not from his expression, that he didn't believe her at all. "I'm wagering that moving heavy objects was on the list of things you weren't supposed to do." When she stubbornly refused to answer him, he smiled down at her. "I guessed as much."

"I won't do it again," she growled softly, "I promise. Happy now?"

"No, because I know that's an empty promise that you have no intention whatsoever of keeping." He lowered his head so that his lips were hovering just above hers. "So I guess we'll just have to resort to Plan B."

She furrowed her eyes and gazed at him questionably. "Plan B?"

"The way I see it, you have two choices." He paused and smiled at the speculation lingering behind her gaze. "You can either move in with me or I'm moving in with you."

"Absolutely not!" she protested immediately, trying to buck him off of her, but only ended up hurting herself instead. She cried out, traitorous tears filling her eyes as she ground her teeth together.

He stilled above her. "Hermione?" his grip loosened from her wrists as he cupped her face, brushing away some stray tears with his fingers. "Where does it hurt?"

She whined and tried to curl up her body into the fetal position, but his body was in the way. "Everywhere," she finally managed to spurt out, discovering that it was better if she just didn't move at all.

"I'm going to go get some of those potions Cygnus sent over for you." He got up from the bed and turned to look back down at her unmoving form. "Don't move."

She had the urge to snap that she didn't intend to move, but found she couldn't spare the energy. She would need all her energy later to argue with him.

He came back carrying three different vials of potions, each a different colour. After staring at them for a moment or two, he finally decided on the green one and lifted her head up so that he could help her swallow the thick liquid.

She grimaced at the taste it left in her mouth and conveyed her displeasure to him through a nasty glare. He merely chuckled at her and tenderly kissed her temple, which surprised her and caught her off guard. She stared at him warily as he stood from the bed and walked to the door.

"Lock the door on your way out, will you?" She said, already attempting to move the covers down so that she could get some much needed rest.

She assumed when the door shut that he had left, but she thought wrong. She heard material being removed and her eyes snapped up to where Tom stood at the foot of the bed, removing his clothing. She stared at him, wide eyed, for a moment before regaining the power of speech.

"What do you think you're doing? I thought you were leaving," she stammered.

He merely grinned in that arrogant way of his at her as he removed his shirt. When his hands reached for the buttons on his pants, he said, "From the scene I walked in on, I don't think I could honestly trust you to stay here by yourself and follow the Healer's orders so I intend to make sure that you do so personally."

"I don't need a babysitter," she bit out more harshly than she intended to, but she wasn't about to apologize for her tone. "I'm not a child."

His eyes ran up and down her body slowly and then he smiled. "I know very well that you're not a child, hellcat, and I thank Merlin for that fact everyday."

She scooted away from him frantically as he sat down on the bed beside her, now only in his boxers. "Tom, please." She lowered her gaze and clutched at the covers, pulling them up over her. "I can take care of myself."

He chuckled as he pulled the covers back down. "Show me you can, Hermione. Take your clothes off and change into your nightclothes."

She blushed, though she hated herself for it, and drew her knees up to her chest. "I'm not going to do it with you in here," she pouted, looking away from him.

His hand gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him. His eyes were filled with amusement as his head lowered towards hers. "Hermione, I've seen it all." He stared at her for just a few more seconds before drawing away and sighing. "If you don't do it then that merely means that I'm going to be forced to do it for you…"

She was out of the bed in an instant, her body immediately protesting at her movements and, before she knew it, she was hurtling forward. She closed her eyes and braced herself for the impact of the fall, but it never came. Tom's arms had shot out with seeker-like reflexes, and had grabbed her before she could hit the floor.

"That's it," he said as he hauled her up into his arms, "you now have a choice between moving in with me, or I move in with you." His eyes met hers with serious determination. "So what's it going to be, Hermione?"

She growled lightly at him, but refused stubbornly to answer him. She turned her head away from him and stared pointedly at the bed. "I'm tired," she stated flatly.

He smirked. "Then we better get you undressed then, shouldn't we?" He sat her down on the edge of the bed and kneeled in front of her. She could only watch as he began to remove her socks and then reached up to take off her pants.

When his hand touched the inch of skin between her shirt and her jeans, she snapped out of her daze and jumped, startled. "What are you doing?"

He sighed with impatience and merely continued to tug at her jeans, lifting her hips up easily so that he could get them off of her. "We've been over this, Hermione. You want rest and to do that, you need to get undressed and into your nightclothes. Since you're clearly unable to do that yourself, I'm helping you. Now, stop being stubborn and let me help you."

Stunned by the control he was exhibiting, she sat there in silence while he took off her shirt and bra, and then eased her nightshirt over her head. She turned her head away, embarrassed, by the unflattering Quidditch jersey she always slept in.

Tom paused as he adjusted the hem of the large shirt over her thighs, staring at the jersey. "Did Krum give you this?" he finally questioned, his voice husky

She hesitated in answering as she watched the array of emotions playing out on his face. Shaking her head, she pressed some fingers to her hand. "Er, no. No he didn't." She closed her eyes as she touched a hand to the cloth. "I saw it in the store one day and," she paused, "it reminded me of something from my past."

He studied her, waiting for her to go on, but when she didn't he pressed her. "A past boyfriend perhaps?"

She didn't answer for a moment, causing him to stiffen slightly. Finally, "No, not a boyfriend." She fingered the material. "One of my best friends was obsessed with Quidditch. He lived and breathed for it." She looked up at him and smiled. "Every time I went over to stay with his family, I took one of his jerseys to sleep in. Eventually he just told me to keep the one."

He relaxed in his seat and placed a hand on her knee. "Miss him?"

She nodded. "Terribly." An image of Ron filled her mind and she smiled. "He was horrible at Quidditch when he first started playing, though. My other friend, though, was a natural, but he wasn't too much of a fanatic about the sport."

He listened patiently as she rattled off some more about her friends, though she still controlled how much information she offered up. This was the most she had ever opened up about her life, though, and he wasn't about to pass up on this opportunity to learn more about her.

She stopped suddenly, as if she knew she had suddenly said too much. Her eyes darted to him quickly before looking away again. "Sorry," she muttered.

"No, don't apologize," he said gently. He wanted to coax her into telling him more. He reasoned this need to know more about her with the fact that he always knew everything about everyone so he could use it against them later. "Tell me more about these friends."

She smiled at him and shook her head. "Nice try, Tom Riddle, but no. I've said more than I meant to already." She turned her body away from him and pulled down the covers. "Time for bed, I think."

He smiled at her and stood. "Absolutely right." He pulled the covers up over her when she rested on the right side of the bed and then moved to the left side. He settled in beside her and pulled the covers up over him.

Hermione didn't even bother to protest when he moved into the bed beside her; she knew it would be useless anyway. She went easily into his side when he pulled her body to his. He ran his hand up and down her arm a couple of times, and for a minute she allowed herself to wonder what it would be like to be in a real relationship with him.

**o!o**

Hermione walked over to her desk and sat down gratefully in her seat. She didn't realized how much she missed it until now. She leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes.

"Hermione!"

She opened her eyes as two arms wrapped tightly around her, lifting her out of her seat. Though her muscles was pretty much relaxed now after her week vacation, she still wasn't completely recovered and she groaned at the slight spasm through her body.

"Richard," she said, patting his back, "you're hurting me."

He immediately released her and let her fall back into the chair. "Sorry." He hugged her again, easier this time, and kissed her cheek.

"It's okay," she said, smiling up at him. "I'm just a bit sore still, but not as much as I was before. No quick movements."

He grinned and perched himself on the edge of her desk. "It's good to have you back. You don't know how bored I've been without you here. I've actually had to attempt to hold a decent conversation with Haley, which, I assure you, was quite hard."

Hermione laughed softly as she opened one of the files on her desk. "You poor dear, that must have been so trying for you."

"Oh it was," he assured her, "but I found a nice alternative."

His little dreamy smile had her grinning as she was sure she knew what the alternative was he had found. "Sneaking Minerva away for lunch, have you?"

"Not much sneaking was needed," he replied calmly, a goofy grin on his face. "Dumbledore invited me to dine at Hogwarts with Minnie whenever I wanted to."

Hermione gaped at him. "Minnie?" She shook her head with a small laugh. "You two have been getting close while I was gone."

Richard blushed slightly as he rubbed a hand through his hair in a nervous manner. "Sort of," he finally answered softly, averting his gaze from hers.

"Sort of?" she asked teasingly. Then her face grew serious. "Don't hurt her, Richard."

He raised a brow at her. "Are you not even worried about her hurting me?"

She shrugged. "No."

"Nice friend you are," he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Real nice."

Hermione merely turned in her seat to pin him down with her steady gaze. "Richard, you have to admit that you've had your fair share of relationships while this is her first real one. She's not like the other girls you date."

"I know," he replied seriously, "which is why I like her so much. She's so sincere and sweet." He grinned. "Not to mention how cute she is when she purses her lips at me in that stern manner when she doesn't approve of something I'm doing or something I've said."

Hermione laughed. "About time someone kept you on your toes."

He sent her a roguish wink. "Ah, but Hermione dear, you've always kept me on my toes." As she shook her head and turned around, he looked at the single rose in the vase off to the side. "From Tom?"

Distracted, she looked over at where the rose stood in full bloom. "Oh, yeah." She turned away from it and picked up some files, flipping through them.

"So are you two back together?"

Hermione bit on her lip as she thought about her answer, her eyes staring at the page in front of her. "I'm not really sure," she admitted softly.

"You know, that's the second time I've received that answer to that question," he mused out loud. "I'm beginning to wonder about you."

Hermione gave an angry huff as she slammed the file down and glared at him. "Look, I don't know because every time I attempt to bring up the topic, he makes one of his arrogant comments that ends up distracting me. He's basically taken up house in my flat. At first I was willing to allow him to do so since the Healer had told me that I needed to take it easy and not overdo myself, but now I can't get him to move out."

"Sounds to me like you're in relationship," he told her softly.

"Then why the hell can't we be like normal couples?" she demanded.

Richard merely watched as she banged her head on her desk three times. "Darling, you and Tom will never be like other couples because, quite frankly, neither of you are like normal people."

Hermione raised her head and glared at him. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Well, no, not really," he said, patting her head, "but it is a fact that you're just going to have to accept and get over. Look, you're both too independent and stubborn for your own good and somehow that makes both of you compatible. I know you want him to change, but don't you think that maybe you'll have to change too?"

Hermione glared at him. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She honestly couldn't expect him to change so much and not be willing to make some sacrifices herself so that their relationship would work.

Richard grinned as she stood up and picked up her handbag. "You know I'm right."

"I will admit no such thing," she huffed as she walked out of the office and towards the floo system. She had a certain stubborn male to see.

**Ah, I may be getting better at this updating thing...see, two updates! **

**As always, thank you for reading. Much love,**

**MiZZ AmAyA**


	15. Chapter 15

**DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I still don't own Harry Potter...**

**Chapter 15**

_Creative thinking is not a talent, it is a skill that can be learnt. It empowers people by adding strength to their natural abilities which improves teamwork, productivity and where appropriate profits. --Edward de Bono_

Hermione walked down the small street of Knockturn Alley, pulling her cloak tighter around her as she observed her surroundings. She stopped outside the small store that she had once sat outside with Harry and Ron as they spied on Draco Malfoy. This was only the second time she had been near the store, but only the first time in this time period.

A small bell jingled as she pushed open the door and two customers both turned to look at her. She ignored them as she looked behind the counter to find Tom. He was standing off to the side with his back to her in deep conversation with Abraxas Malfoy. By his stance, she could tell that he was not happy about something and Abraxas was only aggravating him more.

She took a couple of steps toward him and then stopped as Tom slammed his hand down on the counter, stopping Abraxas mid-word. "Enough," he ground out harshly. "I have heard your argument Abraxas, many times I might add, and I have already told you my thoughts on the subject. I do not require you to understand my decision nor do I require you to agree. Do I make myself clear?"

Abraxas bowed his head, though Hermione could tell that he was not happy with Tom. "Yes, my lord, I understand _completely_."

He turned away and then stopped when he saw Hermione standing there. His lip drew back in a sneer as he took in her slightly disheveled appearance. She looked past him at Tom who was now staring straight back at her.

"Mr. Malfoy," she acknowledged stiffly. She brushed past him and stood beside Tom, leaning up to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Do you have time to go to lunch with me?"

Tom looked down at her for a second and she felt the gentle brush of his mind against hers. She cocked a brow at his intrusion and pushed him out. He smirked amusingly and nodded. "Yes, just give me a minute to tell Mr. Burke where I'm going." He looked up at Abraxas. "We'll talk later, Abraxas."

Abraxas nodded stiffly and then headed out the door, his cloak flowing behind him. Hermione stared after him and then turned to smile up at Tom. "Ready?"

He leaned down and caught her lips with his, his hand tangling in her curls. "Just a minute," he whispered against her lips as he pulled back.

She waited for him by the door, taking in all the strange objects that lined the shelves. She noticed some stuff that would still be there during her time, but others she didn't recognize. She picked up a strange looking box with weird designs on top of it.

"I wouldn't open that if I were you," Tom said as he joined her, his cloak draped over his arm. "It sends an electric jolt through the body whenever someone opens it." He took the box from her hands and set it back on the shelf. Then, he turned and opened the door for her.

He took her arm as they stepped out onto the street and drew her closer as if trying to protect her. She appreciated the small gesture. She knew that she was safe with him.

As they set down at one of the tables in the Leaky Cauldron, Tom looked at her closely. "So what's the special occasion?" he asked suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

He leaned back in his seat. "Well, usually I have to drag you out to have any type of meal with me. You've also been acting hostile towards me lately, so forgive me if a lunch invitation is the last thing I expected."

"You actually have Richard to thank for the invitation as he helped me realize some things this morning," she said quickly before she placed her order with the barkeeper.

As soon as the man walked away, Tom leaned forward, bracing his arms on the table. "What was it that he made you realize?"

"That even though you drive me to the point of insanity sometimes and even though you seem unable to admit that a relationship consists of two people and that we are in one, that we are undeniably perfect for each other," she answered in a rush, not meeting his gaze.

She could feel him staring at her stonily, but didn't look up at him. Still looking down, she continued, "We sleep together, practically live together since you refuse to move out, and we fight like a couple. Therefore, we might as well try for some semblance of a normal couple."

She finally leaned back in her chair and looked up at him. He was tapping one finger against his chin as his dark green eyes stared at her. She smiled up at the barkeeper as their food and drinks were placed in front of them, but she noticed out of the corner of her eye that Tom had yet to move.

She picked up her spoon and tasted her soup, enjoying the seasoning that was added into the brew. She scooped some more up in her spoon and held it over the table towards Tom. "Want to try some? It's really good."

He didn't move for a moment and she prepared to pull the spoon back towards her. He leaned forward suddenly and took the spoon into his mouth. The corner of her lips pulled back in a grin as he did so.

"Like it?"

He let the spoon slip from his mouth and smiled at her. "Delicious," he murmured as he leaned forward a little more and kissed her, "but not as good as you."

She laughed despite herself. "That has to be the cheesiest line I have ever heard, Tom Riddle." She reached under his arm and plucked a piece of chicken from his plate, popping it into her mouth. "Chicken's not that bad. Better eat before it gets cold."

He smiled at her and set back down in his chair, picking up his fork. "Did you mean it?" he asked suddenly, his gaze flicking up at hers quickly before returning to his plate.

"Mean what?"

"About us living together and trying a real relationship," he clarified, trying his food.

"Well, if you think about it, we're practically living together now. You have clothes in my closet and at least half you're stuff in my flat. You should just move the rest over and give up your flat." She took a sip of her tea. "As to trying a real relationship, I feel that it's the only thing we have left to do. Honestly, Tom, I can't continue the way we are going now. We need to try to function together or not at all."

"You're not leaving me again," he said more harshly than he meant to.

"I don't want to leave you, Tom, but I refuse to let you run over me all the time and try to control me. I need some independence," she responded in kind. "We're equals, Tom."

His eyes narrowed briefly before he set down his fork. "What are your conditions, then?"

"If you want to move in with me, that's fine, but none of this half and half stuff. If you keep your flat, then you can move back in there. I also believe that we each should have some privacy still and independence. I'll respect your privacy as long as you respect mine."

He dug into his food with a fever. "And will you commit yourself wholly to me? Will you accept me as I am now and not expect me to change?" He looked her straight in the eye. "Will you make my beliefs yours?"

Brow raised, she said evenly, "No."

"What?" he growled softly.

"I am my own person, Tom, as I have told you on many occasions, and I will not bow to your whims. I have my own beliefs as you have your own. I cannot promise to agree with you on everything, nor can I promise that I'm going to accept every little thing about you."

He hissed softly as he snapped his head away. "I need you to accept me and my beliefs, Hermione. We need to present a united fron-" He stopped as he seemed to realize what he was saying.

She leaned forward. "Tom, I might not know everything that you're doing, but I'm not completely stupid. I can clearly see that you and your friends are messing around with Dark Magic and I don't completely agree with…"

His bitter laugh cut her off. "Oh please Hermione, I know you and Dumbledore were messing around with Dark Magic that day you were hurt. Only Dark Magic could have done that much damage to you with so little effort."

She willed herself to remain calm as she took a couple of deep breaths. "Tom, I'm not going to argue with you, nor am I going to just lie down and let you walk all over me. If we're going to commit to a relationship, then we're going to be equals."

He glared at her for a moment or two as he considered her words. "Fine," he growled finally, "but I expect you to accompany me on social functions."

"As long as you give me notice ahead of time and I don't have plans beforehand," she countered smoothly, lifting her tea cup.

"Hermione," he started.

She set down the cup and raised her hand to stop him before he could even start. "Tom, I mean it. I have a life as well. I'll ask you beforehand if you can make time to do something with me, and I expect the same courtesy from you."

He stared at her for a moment and then smirked slightly. "You drive a hard bargain."

"Yeah, but you're going to agree anyway because you can't resist me," she smirked. "So, what's it to be? Are we a couple or not?"

"We are, and I'm moving in," he paused, "permanently." He ate the last of his chicken and then polished off his drink. "Do you have time to run an errand or two with me before you have to return to work?"

"I'm pretty much done with all my work for the day so sure. Where do you need to go?"

"I need to speak with Cygnus so I was going to head over there. Plus he has some more potions for you to take to strengthen you. Then I was going to head over and pick up something at Gringotts."

"Alright," she said as she stood and pulled on her cloak. She took out some galleons from her bag and placed them on the table. She waved Tom's insistent hand away and tugged on his arm to stop him from taking back her money and laying down his own. "Let's go."

He gave up and wrapped his arm securely around her waist and pulled her into his side as they walked out the door and into muggle London. They walked down the streets and made their way to the London entrance to St. Mungo's where they would find Cy.

Tom kept a firm hand on her as he guided her through the crowded halls of the hospital. Some of the medi-witches smiled at Tom in a flirtatious manner as they passed; Hermione just rolled her eyes. His grip tightened a few times, and she cast a curious glance up at him, but he didn't return her glance.

Hermione glanced down the hall to her right and saw Cy talking to one of the Healers. "There he is," she told Tom as she picked up his hand and turned down the hall. As Cy turned away from the Healer, she called out, "Cy."

Cy turned back towards them, surprise etched on his face and then he masked his features when he saw Tom standing slightly behind her. "Hello Hermione, Tom."

"Cygnus," Tom replied formally. "If you have time, I would like to have a word," he gestured to the side.

"Certainly," Cy replied instantly and walked into one of the empty rooms.

Tom turned and kissed Hermione's cheek. "Give us just a minute, hellcat. Why don't you go and have a seat in the waiting room down there and I'll come for you when we're done?"

Hermione was tempted to tell him where he could stick his suggestion, but thought better of it when she opened her mouth. "Fine," was all she said. She forced a smile to her lips when he looked as if he was going to start issuing orders. "Don't be too long."

He kissed her on the other cheek. "I won't."

**o!o**

Hermione removed the tea kettle from the heat and poured the hot water into her cup. She watched in fascination as the new tea leaf flower bloomed in her cup as it flavoured the water. She had seen the tea bud in a muggle shop when she had been shopping there earlier this week, though this was the first chance she got to try it out.

She glanced at the table where she had scattered some of her work earlier to be completed. Her boss had decided to take an unannounced vacation and had waylaid her with all of his work plus his secretaries who, Hermione knew, was going with him though she was sure his wife didn't know.

She lifted up the top parchment and glanced over it. He had "started on it" or so he had told her. Just by glancing at it, she noticed that almost all his markings were wrong and that she would have to start the whole thing over.

She checked the casserole she was attempting to make in the oven and groaned. She was still doing something wrong; it just didn't look like her mum's. She removed the burnt dish and set it on the counter beside the other two failed attempts with a grimace.

"Why me?" she groaned softly as she took out the ingredients once more and started over. She continuously checked the recipe as she added the items, following the instructions to a tee. She set the oven temperature and carefully finished the dish. She placed it in the over and set the timer, determined to get it just right this time.

She began remarking the papers on the table as she waited for the casserole to finish. She only got through three of them when she heard the door open and shut. "Home already?" she called loudly, listening as Tom hung his cloak up by the door.

"I got to leave early." He walked into the kitchen and planted his hands on his hips, sniffing the air. "What's that burning?"

Hermione jumped from her seat instantly, knocking the chair over, and dived towards the oven. Sure enough, the casserole was extremely burnt. "I hate cooking," she growled as she attempted to fish out the dish without burning herself.

When she straightened up, Tom was smirking. She threw her oven mitt at him, glaring at him. "Get your own food, then. See if I ever try to cook for you again."

He caught a hold of her as she went to walk past him and he wrapped his arms tightly around her. She didn't attempt to fight him, as she knew it would be pointless, but she did stiffen up in his embrace. "Let me go," was all she said.

"Hellcat, I'm touched that you wanted to cook for me," he said with a smirk, trying to kiss her but she turned her head away. "Cooking's just not your strong point."

She made a face at him. "Do you think I haven't figured that out," she said, jerking her hand in the direction of the ruined tries at dinner.

"Why didn't you just use magic?"

Her lower lip jutted out in a pout as she crossed her arms between them. "It's just not the same," she answered softly, leaning her forehead against his chest. "Do I have to cook?"

"No, hellcat, you don't have to cook anything" he cajoled softly as he wrapped his arms tighter around her. "Do you want me to fix dinner?"

"Yes," she said almost immediately, looking up at him with a large smile on her face. "Tonight and every night if you will, thanks."

As she spun out of his arms, she could hear him laughing behind her as she headed towards the sitting room. "Good one, Hermione Granger, but I will get you back for that, that I promise you."

She smirked gleefully as she plopped down on the couch, picking up her book. "Can't wait to see you try," she whispered.

**Ooh, I am getting better at updating. I'm going to try to finish posting all this before I move. Yes, I'm moving again next week. I move around a lot. **

**As always, much love to everyone who takes the time to read my ramblings!**

**MiZZ AmAyA**


	16. Chapter 16

**DISCLAIMER: I am not JK Rowling and I don't receive royalties from HP (no matter how much I wish I did)**

**Chapter 16**

_Imagination is more important than knowledge. For while knowledge defines all we currently know and understand, imagination points to all we might yet discover and create. Albert Einstein_

Hermione kept her eyes shut as she felt the bed shift on Tom's side. She heard him try to quietly open up the wardrobe and gather up his clothes. She waited until she heard him walk from the room and out the front door before rising.

"Now where are you off to?" she whispered to herself as she pulled on one of his old jumpers over her pyjamas. She grabbed her wand off the nightstand as she slipped from their flat as quietly as she could. He was leaving the building just as she opened the door.

She followed him at a distance as he slinked through the deserted London streets. She thanked Merlin that the lights were dim, and that she could generally stay in the shadows.

He ducked down one of the alleys, causing her to pause. She continued on slower than before, being sure to hug close to the wall. Her hand instinctively tightened on her wand as she wondered whether she should just go on back to the flat or continue to follow him.

Curiosity won out.

She peeked around the corner when she reached the alley, seeing only the darkness. She knew there was no way that he could have reached the end that fast, so she could only assume that he had apparated. Maybe if she could find the apparation point, she could get a trace on wherever he went.

Just as she stepped into the alley, a hand shot out from the darkness and grabbed her by the throat. Her head cracked against the brick wall as she was shoved up against it.

"What are you doing here?"

Her eyes snapped open at Tom's growl. His eyes were burning with an angry intensity that honestly made her nervous. His hand tightened just slightly on her throat as he took a step closer to her.

"I…," she gasped. He grabbed her wand with his free hand and twisted it out of her grip.

"You what?" he hissed, leaning his face towards her.

"Tom," she gasped, "you're hurting me." She grabbed at his wrist to try to loosen his grip, but failed. "Please…"

He growled at her for a second before letting his hand fall away. He kept her wand in his hand, though, and took a step loser to her to prevent her escape. "What are you doing here?" he repeated.

"I guess you wouldn't believe me if I said I was just taking a walk," she muttered sheepishly, looking up at him from beneath her lashes.

"Try again." He crossed his arms over his chest as he stared steadily at her, waiting for an answer. "Why were you following me?"

"Because I wanted to know where you were sneaking off to," she told him, crossing her own arms in defiance. If she was going to go down, she was determined to do it with a fight.

"And if it's none of your business?"

"Of course it's my business," she snapped haughtily. "We're dating, Tom."

"Oh, is that so?" he asked mockingly. "This coming from the same person who has repeatedly told me to mind my own business because 'we each have secrets.'"

Her lower lip jutted out slightly in a pout. "That's different."

A smile ghosted across his face as he moved closer, pressing right up against her. "Really? How is it different, pray tell?"

"It just is."

He cupped her cheek in his hand. "Great answer. So am I to assume that you are privy to all my secrets but I am not to yours?"

She hitched her chin up a notch. "Correct."

He stared down at her for a minute before seemingly coming to some sort of decision. He grabbed her hand in a tight grip and jerked her toward him, causing her to crash up against him. He then started walking down the alley, dragging her along after him.

"Tom," she said as she attempted to pull her hand from him, "where are we going?"

"You want to know where I'm going, well, I'm taking you with me." He pulled her up sharply beside him, forcing her to keep pace with him.

"I don't want to go though," she protested.

"You should have thought of that before you decided to play spy."

She attempted once again to jerk her arm hand from him. "Yeah, well you should of thought of that before you decided to go sneaking around."

He growled as he stopped and swung around toward her, baring his teeth. His other hand came up to grab hold of her chin as he forced her, quite painfully, to look up at him. "Listen to me, Hermione, for I will only say this once. I refuse to tolerate this sort of behaviour from you. You will behave like a proper girlfriend and…"

"Like hell," she interjected, jerking her head to the side and out of his hold. "I love you, Tom, but I'll be damned if I sit around and…"

"What did you say?" he broke in softly, his eyes narrowed on her.

Still in an angry huff, Hermione placed her fists on her hips as she glared up at him. "I said that I'd be damned if I just sit around and let you order me around."

"Not that part. What did you say before that?"

His eyes were so intense as they stared at her that she couldn't stop the blush that coloured her cheeks, sending a warming feeling throughout her body. Embarrassed, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked anywhere but at him. "Nothing."

The corner of his lip twitched slightly, something it hardly ever did before he met her. He leaned his face down closer to hers. "What was that? I didn't quite catch it."

"Nothing," she muttered, a little bit louder this time. She still refused to look at him, although she could sense him with every fibre of her being as he stepped even closer to her.

"Nothing, eh?" His hands came up to rest on her shoulders, giving them a light squeeze. "Sure didn't sound like nothing to me."

She looked at him, the familiar fire he was used to back in her eyes as she stared up at him. "Maybe I should make an appointment to go get your hearing checked then. Next Friday good for you?"

He laughed, the sound of his laughter echoing crudely in the silent alley. One of his hands went down to wrap around her waist as he brought her closer. "Oh my dear, silly, little hellcat, whatever am I to do with you?"

"For starters, you could let me go back home and crawl in our nice, warm bed."

He smiled slightly as he touched her cheek with his finger. "Home," he repeated very softly, almost inaudibly, as if in thought. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers briefly, his teeth nipping her lip ever so slightly before pulling back. "This time, Hermione, but be warned that I will not be as lenient next time."

As she spun away from him and started back down the way she had came, she smiled teasingly back at him. "Yeah, yeah, that's what you say every time." She turned at the end of the alley and smirked. "And I said that I _liked_ you."

She could hear his soft laughter as he whispered the words, "Right back at you," before disapparating, leaving her all alone.

**o!o**

There were three men standing off to the side of the group, Though their masks kept their identity a secret, at least one of the three was easily identifiable. He stood a good four inches taller than the other two and kept his glorious blond hair out of his cape. He liked to show off his angelic locks quite a lot.

Cy watched them through apprehensive eyes as they were clearly plotting something. He had a nasty feeling about whatever it was. It also didn't help that Abraxas kept glancing over in his direction and smirking almost maniacally.

Cy folded his hands over his chest as he glanced around the group. The Dark Lord was unusually late for their gathering. Usually he was the first there, always wanting to watch as they arrived. Him being late couldn't be a good thing…

Suddenly there was a whirl of black as Lord Voldemort appeared in the middle of the circle, his face a cold mask as he turned to look at each and every one of them. He sneered at some of them, stopping when he came to the group.

"It would be best," he growled ominously, "to block your thoughts before coming into my circle." His sneer and glare deepened. "Or at least attempt to as I doubt any of you would be capable of forming a semi-decent mind block."

Cy noted with satisfaction how Abraxas stirred uncomfortably under the scrutiny of the Dark Lord. At least the Dark Lord would make Abraxas think twice before doing anything.

Lord Voldemort snapped his fingers and a single chair appeared behind him in which he set. He observed them coldly, calculatingly, with a disdainful sneer on his face. "You've been slacking off lately," he seethed, eyes flashing.

"My lord, your forgiveness please," a man towards the back pleaded, bowing his head. He was soon on the ground as Lord Voldemort sent a _Crucio_ his way. His screams filled the air around them and Cy couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine.

Lord Voldemort lifted the spell with a simple flick of his wrist, eyes trained on the man on the ground. "There will be no forgiveness for laziness." He leaned back in his throne. "You will retrieve an object for me," he said finally after a pause.

He stood and walked over to the group of men surrounding Abraxas. "You will go Abraxas, and you will take Nott, Rookwood, and Goyle with you to retrieve it."

Abraxas hesitated, but eventually bowed his head with a muttered, "Yes, my lord."

Cy watched as the Dark Lord stared at the man for a moment before leaning in and whispering something. Malfoy stiffened visibly, his mouth hardening. Voldemort leaned back, a sinister smile on his face, and said, "No response?"

He walked back to his throne and waved his hand. "You have your assignment. The rest of you leave." His eyes scanned the crowd to rest on Cy. "Stay," was all he said.

The Death Eaters all disapparated away quickly so as not to anger their lord, leaving only the two left. Cy bowed his head in respect and submission before walking up to where Voldemort waited on him. "Yes, my lord?"

"You care for Hermione."

It was not a question, but a statement that instantly had Cy on his guard. He knew that Voldemort was a master at reading minds. Could he had seen how much he cared for Hermione? Would he be punished?

As if in answer to that last thought, "No, I am not planning to punish you for your feelings." A sinister smile appeared on his thin lips. "At least, not yet. Be warned, though, I do not take kindly to having my possessions taken from me."

Cy stiffened. "Yes, my lord, I do care for her."

Voldemort nodded, his eyes hooded, not giving anything away. Finally, "You will watch over her in the coming weeks when I am unable to do so. If anything happens to her, I will hold you accountable. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord."

"You are to watch Malfoy as well." He tapped his chin with his finger. "He does not trust you. He, too, sees that you care for Hermione." The Dark Lord stood and began to pace, beating his wand against the palm of his hand in a steady motion. "He will be essential in plans to come, but after that, yes…"

"My lord?"

Voldemort turned back to Cy. "Go, Cygnus, and remember your charge." His eyes flashed to a sinister red before returning to their normal state. "Failure is not an option."

Cy bowed as he pulled his hood low over his head, whispering, "Yes, my lord," before disappearing into the night.

**o!o**

Imagine:

The inner workings of time is dictated by a single gold weave. As the hands of the clock slowly tick around, another strand is woven into the intricate blanket. The Fates guard over this blanket preciously, for it dictates the past, present, and the future.

Most often, the move for the next braid is planned, written down in a large tome within an area where none dare to adventure. Every so often, though, something goes awry. Free will often is forgotten by those who govern all that goes into creating life.

A person can, and most often will, do something completely unexpected.

When this happens, the blanket will have an irregular pattern in which the Fates will investigate further to see whether something or someone interfered. If so, more often than not they fix the problem in one way or another, however they see fit.

No one gets the better of the Fates.

As time slowly wore on, they were quite used to the irregularities in the pattern caused by free will. More often than not, they would simply look at the little blip and wonder what human had caused it. It was considered 'mere' to them, for what human had the power to drastically change the future.

And yet not even they could deny the sudden change in the blanket.

They watched through horrified eyes as the blanket slowly began to undo itself in parts, reweaving into a new, more unusual pattern. The eldest of the Fates rushed forward, scissors in hand, to fix the weave, but the damage had already been done.

In agreement, the three sisters left their temple to converse with one with more power about what should be done. They expected something to be done about this; surely someone was messing with time for an evil means. Instead, they were told to watch the blanket some more, for only free will was changing it.

They returned to their temple and studied the blanket closely. One line was about to end, while another was about to begin.

**So yeah... Sorry about the delay. I had EVERY intention of getting this up sooner, but my major is claiming all my time. It's hard to find time to write anything else when your forced to write so much prose for Creative Writing... bah.**

**The last portion may be weird, but it HINTS at the ending (and it's already finish so I can't change it, no matter how much you guys protest to it)...**

**Much love as always,**

**MiZZ AmAyA**


	17. Chapter 17

**DISCLAIMER: I am not JK Rowling and so I don't own Harry Potter**

**Just realized I've forgotten to thank my AMAZING beta for the past... well, for a lot of chapters. So...THANK YOU CURSE WEAVER!!**

**Seventeen**

_Dicovery consists of seeing what everybody has seen and thinking what nobody has thought. -- Albert Szent-Gyorgyl_

Hermione twirled the quill around in her fingers as she set at her desk. Her work for the day had been pushed to the side. Her mind simply wasn't on it, and until it was, she was just going to ignore it.

She paused at the thought. She would never had done such a thing in the past…well, future. She had always put work first and, well, everything else later. But now, now she was finally putting her priorities first.

With a hand to her forehead, she muttered, "Merlin, I was pathetic."

Ron had been right all along. She _had_ needed to sort out her priorities. She had never had them in the right order, and now it was really too late to matter to Harry or Ron.

No, no it was not too late. She would fix things for them this time by destroying the evil before it got a chance to destroy them. She would destroy Tom Riddle for the good of the wizarding world, for Harry and Ron, and for everyone else that lost their life.

She would destroy him, even if it meant destroying herself in the process.

She was not naïve or pathetic enough to deny that she had fallen in love with Tom, she acknowledged it quite ardently as it had been present in her every thought lately. She knew it had been stupid of her to do so, he was her enemy after all.

She brushed her hair away from her face with a frustrated sigh. She knew from experience that fate was often cruel, and this had to rank among the top of the cruelty list. She just couldn't believe that it was about to come to an end.

Her eye trailed over a piece of parchment tucked under some books. It was seemingly ordinary, as she wished it to be. It appeared blank, but with a drop of plain black ink onto the crinkled page and some whispered words, the writing began to appear.

The code was easy to figure out, for her at least. She quickly transfigured the numbers and equations into letters, the words flowing across the page in harsh writing.

_Acceptance Letter, Destroyed_

_Slytherin's Ring, Destroyed_

_Locket, Destroyed_

_Hufflepuff Cup, Destroyed_

_Hogwart's Trophy_

She quickly jotted down the word 'Destroyed' beside the entry for the trophy. That was five, five Horcruxes already destroyed. She knew, according to her past study of Tom's history that we would be journeying to Albania soon. That meant the other two had to either be made before, or after his trip.

Would he still be going to Albania since she was now in the picture?

She frowned as he twirled her quill faster between her fingers. She knew that by merely being here she would change history, but she had never really sat down and thought about how much she would affect the timeline.

"Great," she muttered darkly as she tossed her quill down, "just great."

She drew in a deep breath to calm herself as she picked her quill back up. The diary, she knew, was another Horcrux, but she didn't even know where to begin to look for it. The others were in rather public places, or she knew where to find it from information in the future. The diary, though, well, she was sure he wouldn't keep it in a place to be found easily.

That left the seventh and final Horcrux. They hadn't even been able to find it in her own time. She had her own theories before as to what it was, but if she was right, then that meant he wouldn't create it for a good while.

She bit down on the very tip of the quill as she pondered over what her next move should be. She could, she suppose, snoop around the flat in his stuff for clues to the location of the diary. She may even be able to find it there.

She gave herself a little nod as she settled on her plan. She would poke around his stuff, and if he caught her she would make an excuse that she was tidying up. He had grown used to her 'muggle cleaning antics' as he called them, so he should believe her excuse.

She drew in a deep breath and wiped the parchment clean and put a few spells on it to protect it from prying eyes. She shoved the parchment into a book and gathered her stuff.

"Leaving?"

She glanced up, a smile already forming on her face as she stared at Cy. "I just finished up for the day and thought I would leave a bit early." She shouldered her bag as she picked up her cloak. "Did you need something?"

"Just dropped by to talk to you a bit," he said with a small shrug as he picked up one of the books on her desk. He smiled as he glanced back up at her. "Do you have some time? I'd like to show you something."

Hermione nipped her lip out of habit as she stared quizzically at him. "Sure," she stuttered out after a moment, "I have a little time before I have to get home. Tom wants to go out somewhere tonight." She added a little shrug and a smile to lighten the mood.

A grin lit up his face as he offered his arm. "My lady?" he drawled in that seductive purr that Sirius had often used. Looking at him and getting to know him, she saw how much like Sirius he was, or rather, how much Sirius would be like him.

She took his arm with a small smile at that thought and allowed him to lead her out through the visitor entrance. She gazed at him curiously as he continued to lead her through muggle London, manoeuvring easily through the thick throng.

"Where are we going?" she finally asked after he ushered her into the back of a black car.

He didn't answer her at first as he leaned forward to give the driver an address. When he leaned back, he gave her a small smirk. "It's a surprise," he answered simply. He stretched his arm out across the back of the seat, his hand resting comfortably on her shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll have you back to Tom before he starts to worry."

She glowered at him for a moment before turning to look out the window. She had a basic grasp of London during this time period from the little exploration she had done during her stint in the past, but she didn't recognize the surroundings as they drove farther away from London.

She estimated a forty minute drive before the driver swung to the side of the road, parking in front of a tall house that seemed far superior to the others on the block. She glanced curiously at him as he got out and held the door open for her.

She waited while he paid off the driver. "Are you going to tell me where we are?"

"My house," he said simply as he took hold of her elbow and led her toward the door. He opened it with a simple flick of his wrist, his wand held sneakily up his sleeve.

The house was nothing what she would expect from him. It was somewhat dark, but highly sophisticated. The dark woods and materials created this affect that made her draw in a deep breath. "Wow," was the only word that came to her mind.

He grinned as he wrapped his arm around her waist and steered her into the sitting room which was just as elegant as the foray. "I quite like it," he said with a small smile, motioning her to take a seat on the couch. "Would you like a drink?"

"No, thank you, I'm fine." She dropped her bag onto the floor at her feet before turning back to see him settling down beside her. "I'm guessing that you wanted privacy."

He chuckled. "Always the perceptive one, aren't you?" He pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "There are ears everywhere, Hermione, remember that always." He sucked in a deep breath as his finger absentmindedly played with that curl. "Abraxas is planning something involving you, and Tom knows. He instructed me to watch after you."

Her temper flared slightly as she stared at him. "I don't need a babysitter."

"I know," he said immediately, cutting her off before she could go into a rant, "but I also know Abraxas, Hermione. He's not the kind you take lightly. I honestly think that he will go against Tom if he thought he could succeed." Cy's eyes blazed into hers as he stated simply, "You are Tom's weak link."

"I can take care of myself," she rebuffed, her chin rising slightly in defiance. She reached up and caught his hand, but he quickly flipped it so that he was holding hers.

"I know that, Hermione," he drew in a deep breath as he fiddled with her hand, "but that's not why I brought you here." He smiled at her when she simply stared at him quizzically. "Hermione, I want you to be honest with me. I am on your side and I promise that I will not break your confidence."

"What do you want to know?" she simply asked, knowing better than to automatically agree to tell him anything.

"What happened with Dumbledore that one time?" He gripped her hand slightly tighter in his own when she went to pull it away. "The potion I made for you, it wasn't an ordinary potion. It was a potion to fight against dark magic."

"Cy, I-," she stopped with a slight shake of her head. "I'm sorry, I can't tell you anything about that."

He nodded even as he ran his thumb over the back of her hand. "Then let me guess." His eyes flashed up to hers and she was surprised by the slightly hard look in them. "You're destroying his Horcruxes."

She blinked at him, her mouth opening and closing in surprise. Too late did she realize that her reaction answered everything her words did not. "Cy," she pleaded softly, her voice coming out on a breathless whisper.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to tell." He drew in a sharp breath as he ran his free hand over his face. "Do you realize the position I'm in, Hermione? He is my lord and you're his bird and yet you're destroying pieces of him. According to every rational thought, I should go to him and tell him everything."

She watched him in silence as he ranted. She knew he was upset, that was quite clear, but he had said that he wasn't going to tell so she would wait out his rant.

"I just," he let out a sharp growl, "I honestly don't know what to do at the moment. Each time I try to figure out how to go about handling this information, the only thing that I can think of is protecting you." He gave her a pointed look, gripping her hand tighter. "Even if that means going against my lord."

Her mouth parted slightly in surprise, her eyes narrowing in disbelief. "You are going to help me destroy Tom?" she asked slowly, giving particular emphasis on the word destroy.

"Yes," he stated simply. He leaned forward, wrapping both of his hands around her one. "I know you must have a good reason for doing this, for deliberately doing something that will break your heart. I can only believe that that reason is better than the one I have for following him now."

She saw a variety of emotions cross his face as he stared at her. She knew that he was sincere with every word he spoke. He believed in her and her mission, even if she didn't divulge the reasons behind it. She moved her free hand on top of his, before leaning forward impulsively and giving him a hug. "Thank you, Cy."

"Don't owl me if you need anything, they are not reliable enough," he said gruffly as his arms wrapped around her, holding her to him. "We'll have to find a way to communicate safely if you do need any help."

She nodded, already thinking about the galleons she had charmed during her fifth year, as she pulled back. "I'll be in touch with you soon."

"He sent Abraxas and some others after an object which I believe he is going to make into another Horcrux. I don't know much about the process in making them so I don't know how long it will take for him to turn it into one."

Hermione frowned. "When was this?"

"A week ago."

Hermione nodded. That had been the night when she had attempted to follow him. She had figured from his mannerisms when he returned that something was up, but she hadn't pressed the issue.

"Then I think it's safe to assume that he has probably already created it, or will be very soon." She nipped her lower lip as she tapped her chin. "Alright, let me do something thinking. Come to me in two days time."

He nodded. "I will."

**o!o**

Abraxas Malfoy flipped through the notes in the file that he was presented earlier with a satisfied smirk on his face. He was quite pleased with the information he had been provided. He could certainly work it to his advantage.

Theodore Nott entered the Malfoy study with a curt knock and settled himself across the desk. "Is everything settled?" He flicked his fingers through his brown locks.

"Mostly," Abraxas answered with a smirk. "I just received this." He closed the file and pushed it across the desk toward his friend.

Theodore picked up the file and flipped through it quickly. A smirk similar to the one Malfoy wore appeared on his face as his eyes travelled over the information. "Wonderful," was all he said as he closed the file and tossed it onto the desk.

"I took the book to the Dark Lord three days ago," Abraxas said, standing and walking over to the large window. He folded his hands behind his back as he stared out onto the front lawn of Malfoy Manor. "I believe it is imperative that we act soon."

Theodore nodded in agreement as he said, "Mickelus let it slip that Cygnus is watching Granger carefully, apparently on the Dark Lord's orders. We will have to take care of him."

"He will be easily removed from the picture," Abraxas waved off. "His older brother is becoming quite concerned with his actions as of late. I believe we may find an ally in him."

"Shall I contact him then and see if we can gain his help in taking care of his brother?" Theodore had a malicious grin on his face as he pondered over the possible ways to incapacitate Cygnus Black.

"Not just yet, I think." Abraxas turned around just then and grinned wickedly. "He will be the easy one to remove from the picture. I believe we'll have more trouble with her."

"When will we make our move?"

Abraxas glanced back out the window as he thought over the plan in his mind. "In a few days time. We need to dig a bit more and find out who will help us remove her."

"What if the Dark Lord suspects something?"

"We will just have to be cautious. All meetings with him should be postponed if possible. He will be able to break through our mind blocks with ease." The look on his face showed just how much Abraxas hated that small fact. He, like any Malfoy, hated any small weakness, and the fact that he couldn't conceal his thoughts was definitely a weakness.

"What if he requests our presence?" Theodore countered. "You know what he does if we keep him waiting or ignore his call."

"We will simply have to work around that obstacle if and when it presents itself," Abraxas answered reasonably. "There may be ways to insure that he is occupied in the days to come."

"How do you plan to do that?"

Abraxas turned around to face Theodore. "You just let me worry about that. You just worry about finding those that will help us remove that chit."

Theodore grinned. "It will be done."

**Two things: **

**1. You guys are COMPLETELY off with your guesses...I found your guesses amusing though...this chapter hints at the ending as well... There's only a couple more chapters left on this story actually... prepare for the end!!**

**2. I am moving THIS Thursday... Tomorrow is reading day (study all day) and then I have a three hour exam on Thursday morning where I am leaving right after... I don't know if I'll have time to post the final chapters before then simply because I'm cramming for Roman History (which I will probably fail anyway so it's basically pointless to study)... Anywho, I'll do my best. I don't know if I'll have internet when I move so it might be a little while.**

**As always, thanks for reading,**

**MiZZ AmAyA**


	18. Chapter 18

**DISCLAIMER: I am merely one of many inspired by the great works of JK Rowling...**

**Thank you to my wonderful beta for this story, Curse Weaver, who I seem to forget to thank... Lurve ya!**

**Eighteen**

_Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia. E.L. Doctorow  
_

Hermione fingered the gold coin in her dress pocket for what must have been the fiftieth time that day as she watched Tom move about the room. She had very nearly gotten caught two hours ago when he came home. She had been shifting through some of his stuff in hopes of discovering the diary when she had heard the stairs creaking outside the flat's door. She had just managed to swish her wand to straighten the room before he entered.

He hadn't given her much time to herself since.

There was something slightly off about Tom today, Hermione observed as she continued to watch him discreetly. It wasn't exactly unusual for him to arrive home early, but he had done so today with an odd look on his face as he took her in, standing before him as he walked through the door and let out a strange sound.

His arms had gone around her almost instantly, just holding her tightly to him as she stared at the side of his head strangely. She didn't even register that she should move her arms up to hug him back as he squeezed her.

When she had inquired whether he was feeling alright, he had instantly hardened and drew back from her, a mask coming down over his features as he spun away and walked from the sitting room into the kitchen.

Their early dinner had been an affair. Usually they debated over a variety of topics while they ate, usually something Tom made as it became quite clear that Hermione was hopeless in the kitchen. However, this meal was eaten in complete silence, each casting furtive looks at the other before looking back down.

After they had finished eating, Hermione had dived into the sitting room, grabbing a book as she went. Tom followed shortly after. He gazed at her for a moment before grabbing a book himself and settling down beside her, his thighs brushing against hers as he opened his book and started reading.

Now it was an hour after the torturous meal of silence and he was moving around in front of her, having discarded his book earlier with an angry huff. She watched him above the pages of her own book, the fingers of her free hand in her pocket, fingering the coin.

The coin was one of two. She had taken her idea from her fifth year of the charmed galleons and improved upon it slightly to read a series of numbers that formed a code to inform Cy of the meeting place and time. It was also charmed to them as well so that no one else would be able to read them.

She forced herself to remove her hand from her pocket. She knew that if she continued to reach for it to assure herself it was still there and safe, he would notice. She silently closed the book and set it down on the end table.

"Tom?" she inquired softly, standing slowly to go over to him. He turned before she even fully rose from the couch and rested his arm against the wall, his head leaning against the window frame. She touched his arm, and frowned with he jumped. Tom Riddle never jumped.

"Hermione." He inclined his head to the side slightly, his eyes cast downwards. He opened his mouth, but closed it shortly after. When he did finally turn completely to face her, she was shocked by the variety of emotions that played out in his eyes.

"Tom?" She moved closer to him, her hand sliding along his collar bone to rest on his upper arm. "Are you alright?"

His eyes locked onto hers as he straightened. She watched as one of his hands rose hesitantly, freezing before it could actually come into contact with her body. It fell back to his side and hung there as his eyes stayed trained on hers.

Hermione frowned then. Something was definitely off with him, and she honestly couldn't figure out what it was. This was completely out of character for him. "Would you like me to make you a cup of tea or something? Maybe a bit of mead?"

The corner of his lip twitched then, just slightly but enough that his features softened. This time when he raised his hand, he rested it against her hip. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, and inhaled deeply, his breath spreading across her skin as he exhaled.

She grinned slightly, shifting her eyes upward to see his eyes were now closed. "I think you are coming down with something," she teased lightly, rubbing his arm.

Ah, a grin. She was accomplishing something then. "No," he answered softly, angling his head so he could press a kiss to her forehead before moving once again to the former position. "I'm not sick, although I could use a drink."

When she went to move away, he caught hold of her, holding her against him. "Not," he growled out, harsher than usual, "just yet." He pressed his face into the crook of her neck, his arms wrapping completely around her as he nuzzled her skin.

She chuckled in an attempt to break the tension in the air. "Alright, now I know you're sick." She smiled up at him when he pulled back to look at her.

His hand rose toward her face and her eyes instantly locked on it. He danced his fingers lightly down the side of her face, barely touching her and yet sending a thousand or so tingles racing down her spine.

"Tom?" She was actually quite surprised that she could even speak. As it is, his name came out as a breathless whisper as she fought to reign in her emotions.

"Hmm?" His hand moved down to her throat, his fingers teasing her skin with their light strokes. His eyes were watching them and she could see the evident lust in them.

"What are you doing?"

A slow, easy smirk appeared as his eyes drifted up to meet hers. "Memorizing you," he whispered, leaning down to brush his lips lightly against hers.

She fought the urge to freeze up at that. She gazed up at him in confusion, hoping that there wasn't an underlying threat in that statement.

What if he had figured it all out? He could be planning on killing her right now, visualizing different ways to murder her without it being able to be traced back to him. He could be stalling until his Death Eaters could come and do the job…

His touch became more daring, darting down the front of her neck and dancing along the edge of her dress. Once or twice, they dipped down below the fabric, grazing the top swell of her breasts. "You're a mystery, Hermione Granger, one that I just can't seem to figure out no matter how hard I try."

"Is that a bad thing?" she whispered softly, her tone questioning.

"Yes," he answered without a bit of hesitation. His hand worked its way easily under the fabric, cupping her silk clad breast in his hand. "I don't like secrets or mysteries."

"Funny," she said, fighting back the moan that wanted to escape as he massaged her with his hand, "thing to say for a man who has plenty of them."

"And yet you don't seem the least bit curious." He bent his head and ran his mouth along her collarbone, teasing her bared skin with his tongue. She sucked in a sharp breath when he bit down hard, his tongue laving at the wound. "Why is that, I wonder?"

She closed her eyes as she drew in some deep breaths, determined to stay calm as he continued his menstruations. "Maybe I'm just not as curious as you."

He chuckled against the base of her throat as his free hand moved around to her back, slowing working the zipper down. "No, you have the same curious nature as me, hellcat."

She leaned into him as his hand slipped into the back of her dress. She moaned softly as the dress was easily swept off her and his hands ran over her heated flesh. "Tom," she moaned softly, her hands resting against his chest. "Tom, what's wrong?"

She could feel his frown against her shoulder as his motions stilled. "The fool honestly thought I wouldn't find out," he growled, his fingers tightening.

She was glad at that moment that he wasn't able to see her face. She wanted to grab up her dress and fish the galleon out of her pocket to warn Cy that Tom had somehow found out. She wasn't worried so much about herself at the moment, but she didn't want him to get hurt if it could be avoided.

Tom pulled back just enough to kiss her on the lips, nipping her lower lip with his teeth. "In the next coming days, I need you to do something for me," he continued, his voice completely normal now.

She cleared her throat before asking, "What?"

"Stay in a crowd or make sure you're with either myself or Cygnus." He brushed her hair back from her face as he rested his forehead against hers. "Keep your wand on you at all times and remain alert."

"Why?"

"I have a … _problem_ that needs to be dealt with," he explained carefully without really giving away anything. "Until then, I just want to take a few extra precautions where you're involved."

She forced out a chuckle as she ran her hand down his jaw. "Surely it could be nothing that serious, could it? I'm sure you're just overreacting."

"Promise me, Hermione." He held her chin firmly in his hand, his green eyes boring into hers. "This is not something to take lightly."

"Alright," she lied, smiling up at him endearingly, "I promise."

His eyes stared down into hers and she forced every thought from her mind, fighting to keep the emotion from them as well. She knew he was trying to read her, this wasn't the first time. "Bed, I think," he said finally, lifting her up harshly against his body so that she was forced to wrap her legs around his waist, "and then the drink."

**o!o**

Hermione slipped the thick cloak out of the wardrobe as silently as possible. Tom was snoring softly in the bed, the covers bunched up around his neck. Hermione smiled at the sight. When they had first started sleeping together, he hated the covers anywhere near his midsection, but she loved them to hug her all over. Slowly, night by night, the covers had inched their way up him until they rested right at his neck. He slept like that every night now.

Hermione forced herself to look away. She could not stop to be sentimental now. It would end tonight, her part in everything at least. Tonight, history would be changed forever.

Three days ago, Cy had contacted her using the galleon. Apparently, he had discovered that the Horcrux had been made shortly after a Death Eater raid four nights ago. He had also stated that he believed he knew where the diary was.

Hermione knew that they had to act quickly to get the diary and destroy it. It was a risk doing it at night, they both knew, for Tom could easily wake up and catch her. If that happened, their lives would be at stake.

Hermione took one last glance at Tom as she slipped from the bedroom and headed quickly toward the main door. She only had five minutes to get to the meeting place, but first she had to get safely away from the building before she could apparate.

As she ran down the sidewalk, she kept repeating the list of reasons why she was essentially destroying Tom over and over again in her head. Every time she stopped thinking about the reasons, even if only for a brief moment, she pictured Tom in the little moments that made her want to spend the rest of her life with him, like the image of him cuddled up under the covers.

She was aware of the tears welling up in her eyes as she apparated into the abandoned building where Cy was waiting for her. He took one look at her, cursed softly, and gathered her up in his arms while she broke down and sobbed softly.

"Hermione, I really am sorry that it has to be like this," he whispered as he ran his hands over her hair, "but you know why we have to do this. You more than anyone understand the reasons why."

"I know," she said, sniffling slightly, burying her head into his shoulder. "It still doesn't make it any easier."

"I know, I know." He kissed the top of her head.

"When I came here, I thought it would be so easy. I was just going to destroy all his Horcruxes and then destroy him. It was such a good plan." She stared up at him, her eyes red and swollen from crying. "I wasn't supposed to fall in love with him."

Cy smiled down at her, running his fingers down her cheek. "We can't help who we fall in love with." His voice was slightly sad as he looked down at her, his fingers resting on her chin.

She smiled. "You know, in a perfect world, you are the perfect man for me and I do love you, Cy, just not the way you deserve to be loved."

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes indiscernible as he moved his thumb slowly over the smooth skin of her jaw. Then, a special spark lit up his eyes as he smiled slowly, leaning down to brush his lips softly over her own. "I know," he whispered, pulling back.

Hermione watched, slack jawed, as he straightened his robes and held out his hand to her. "Shall we?" he inquired. "We need to do this quickly so we can have you back before Tom notices your absence."

She didn't say anything as she took his hand and allowed him to apparate them to a cemetery. The fog rolled thickly around the tombstones, the elements of the bare trees and thick fog made the whole place look simply spooky.

"Little Hangleton," she whispered in realization, taking in some of the names on the tombs. Her eyes turned upward on their own account and locked onto the large manor on the hill.

Cy glanced at her in surprise. "You know the place?"

She nodded her affirmative but didn't give any further explanation as she began winding her way through the graves. Her eyes danced around, looking for something, anything.

They knew it had to be somewhere around here, already hidden, but they didn't know where exactly. It made perfect sense, really, for it to be hidden here. This was the place of Tom's first real display of power.

In her time, of course, Lucius Malfoy would have retrieved the diary and placed it in his own house for safe keeping until he decided to slip it into Ginny's cauldron. No one would really think to look in the cemetery. The house, yes, but down here amongst the graves. It was almost cliché.

Hermione saw the tall memorial when she rounded a tree. It struck a distant cord in her, she knew it from somewhere but she wasn't completely sure how she did. She heard Cy come up behind her, but didn't turn when he lightly touched her arm.

"Just what exactly are we supposed to be looking for?"

Hermione smiled as her eyes drifted over the name on the tomb. She raised her hand, her finger outstretched. "That," was all she said before taking off toward it.

The memorial was a bit ostentatious in the rather plain cemetery. Hermione knelt in front of it as her eyes travelled over the black marble. She traced the name with a single digit while her eyes rested on the dates listed.

"Whose grave is this?" Cy asked, his face displaying the confusion he surely felt at that moment. Tom had kept his lineage a secret from everyone. He had yet to even confess to her that he was not a pureblood.

"Tom's father," she whispered, standing. "His father was a muggle that lived up in that house," she gestured toward the large house.

"So he's not a pureblood?"

Hermione gave him a pointed stare, raise her brow. "Did you really think he was?" At Cy's nod, she cocked her head. "Come on, Cy, as a member of one of the oldest pureblood families, you should know that Riddle is not a pureblood name. No Riddle, before Tom, showed any magical capabilities."

"He has Slytherin blood in him, though," Cy countered.

"Yes, but even that line was growing weak." Hermione shrugged as she resumed her search on the memorial. "It has to be here somewhere," she muttered, half to herself.

Cy went to the back of the memorial while she looked over the front. She tried a few charms, hoping that maybe there was a hidden door or something, but came up with nothing.

"Hermione, look at this."

Cy was hunched down near the bottom of the tall memorial, his fingers prying at a small cut in the stone. Hermione watched as he cleared off the stone, displaying where a piece of it had been cut at some time and then sloppily concealed.

"Do you think the slab will move?" Hermione knelt on the ground beside him, watching as he continued to work at the stone.

"Without a doubt. There was a concealment charm on it. Only when I removed it did I see where it had been cut." He finally got the cut clear of all dirt and sealer. "Muggle," Cy said as he fingered the glue-like material.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she took out her wand and whispered a spell. The slab fell away from the marble without a sound. Hermione grinned up at Cy as she ran her wand over the entrance to the hole, scanning for any wards. Finding none, she was getting ready to reach her hand in when something stopped her.

"What have we here?"

**I know, I know... it took me long enough. I'm sorry. One more FULL chapter and then the epilogue... I think I shall run and hide, though, after the next chapter. **

**As always, Much Love,**

**MiZZ AmAyA**


	19. Chapter 19

**DISCLAIMER: Sorry to say, I don't own Harry Potter...merely borrowing the characters **

**Just wanted to say thanks to my wonderful beta, Curse Weaver, and thanks to all of you for being patient with me.**

**IMPORTANT NOTE: Cy is not Sirius' father. He was Bella's, Narcissa's, and Andromeda's father. **

**Nineteen**

_There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein. Walter Wellesley "Red" Smith_

"_What have we here?"_

Hermione's wand flew from her hand before she could even spin around. Cy's, too, flew right past her into the waiting hand of Abraxas Malfoy. Her eyes narrowed on the smirking man as she shifted slightly to block the cut out they had uncovered.

"I thought it would be harder than this," he said obnoxiously as he began to walk towards them. More were coming out of the mist to stand behind him. "Imagine my surprise when I was informed that you left your flat without Tom to meet," his eyes settled on Cy, "the youngest Black, one of his most trusted men."

Hermione kept her mouth firmly shut as the men approached. Each had their wands out and pointed at the two of them. Hermione had to admit that the odds weren't in their favour, but she had gotten out of tighter spots than this before with Harry and Ron.

Abraxas sauntered closer and Hermione could almost smirk at his arrogance. He stopped directly in front of her, his wand aimed at her heart. Hermione glanced down at it quickly before meeting his eyes once more.

"Does Tom know about your dalliance with Black?" Abraxas asked, the corner of his lip upturned in a sneer. His hand turned slightly as he addressed one of the men behind him. "Did you know about your dear brother's dalliance with our Lord's whore, Orion?"

Hermione refrained from looking at the source of the new voice when he answered. "He's not my brother by birth, remember that Abraxas. I only married his sister."

Abraxas chuckled as he glanced over at Cy. "I believe that you're about to be the next blasted spot on that lovely tapestry in your sister's house."

"I no longer care, Malfoy," Cy drawled, shifting a bit closer to Hermione as if preparing to protect her if need be. "I have finally seen that my loyalties were misplaced, but no longer."

Abraxas' eyes flittered back to hers as he arched an elegant brow. "And you? Where do your loyalties lie? Are they with your lover," his gaze shifted to Cy for a second, "or with our Lord."

"First off, Malfoy," she spat his name, "my loyalties have remained the same. Second, he's your Lord, not mine. I have never called Tom 'my Lord' and I don't plan on it."

His smirk grew during her rant. "Well, I do believe that answers everything. I do believe my Lord will reward me after I remove you. You are not worthy of him."

Hermione allowed her smile to show through as she arched a brow. "Are you going to kill me?"

His chuckle was low and rough as he stepped closer, his wand digging into her chest. "I believe a little torture is in order, first."

'You're forgetting one thing," Hermione stated.

"What's that?"

"I grew up with muggles," she said before bringing her knee up hard and letting it connect with his abdomen. She quickly drove her elbow into his back when he bent slightly in pain, twisting her foot behind his knee to knock him down.

The other men rushed forward quickly and Hermione dived to grab their wands back. She tossed Cy his before firing off some curses. Cy grabbed a hold of her and drug her behind the large memorial as the spells whizzed by them.

"Got a plan?" Cy grinned cheekily as he leaned over and shot off another spell.

Hermione chuckled at him as she shot off some of her own. "Not at the moment." She leaned back against the stone waiting for them to slack off before popping out again. "Well, this is fun."

Cy let out a barking laugh. "That's for sure. You always have to have some sort of excitement around, don't you?"

"What can I say? I don't like boring." Hermione peeked out from behind the stone, but quickly dived back when a spell almost hit her. "This could be bad."

"Could be?" Cy choked out incredulously. "Oh, I think it passed that mark a long time ago and moved into 'disaster,' but there's always room for luck."

Hermione grinned. "Always," she agreed. "Cover me for a minute." At his nod, she shifted so that she could turn around and start digging in the hole. She pulled out a small pouch from deep within and quickly tore it open.

"Damn buggers," Cy growled as he pulled back sharply, a burn on his arm from one of the spells. He glanced at her and then down at the pouch. "Is that it?"

She pulled the diary out and grinned, clutching it to her chest. "The last one, Cy, the last one." She smiled up at him. "Do you realize what this means?"

"We need to figure a way out of here before we can destroy it?" he replied cheekily.

She chuckled. "We'll make it. I always do." She tucked the diary into her inner cloak pocket as she prepared to shoot off some more spells. "We can't apparate here. We'll have to get at least outside the cemetery before we can."

"Sounds like a plan." He grinned at her. "Run for it?"

She was about to answer when the top of the memorial was blasted off. Cy pulled her underneath him as they curled up to protect themselves from the falling debris. Cy hissed as a large slab slapped against his back.

"You okay?" Hermione whispered, moving to check how much damage was done.

"Yeah, but I think if we're going to make a run for it, we need to do it now."

"What is going on here?"

Hermione and Cy shot each other panicked looks at the new voice. "Well, things certainly just turn interesting," Hermione said softly as she peered cautiously around the edge to see Tom in the midst of the Death Eaters with his wand drawn.

"My Lord," Abraxas stammered, falling to one knee before him, "what brings you here?"

"Does that matter?" he growled. "What does is that I am here and I'm demanding an explanation. Now inform me as to why you are here _right now_."

Hermione was beginning to understand now why they would follow him at his age. He truly was quite frightening when he was angry. She subconsciously leaned back against Cy, her mind whirling with possible exit strategies.

"We were merely trying to protect your interests, my Lord." Abraxas, she noticed, was smart enough to keep his head bent and his voice low, almost pleading.

"My interests?" Tom drawled, looming over him. "And what interests would that be, Abraxas?"

"We were worried, my Lord, about that woman…"

"_Enough_," Tom hissed, casting a quick _Crucio_ on Abraxas whose screams filled the silent night air. Hermione shivered as she tried to back further behind the memorial. "I told you to leave Hermione alone, Abraxas, and you just wouldn't listen to -"

"My Lord," Abraxas interrupted, "she is here with Cygnus Black."

Hermione held her breath while the silence stretched on. She was waiting for the explosion she was sure was going to come. Instead, she heard, "I instructed for her to stay with Cygnus."

"My Lord, we thought-"

"_Enough_, Abraxas." Tom drew in some deep, calming breaths as he kept his wand pointed at Abraxas. "Hermione, come out."

Hermione shot a quick glance at Cygnus, making sure that the diary was tucked securely in her cloak pocket, before standing and coming out form her hiding spot. She glanced at Tom hesitantly as she went to his side. His free arm wrapped tightly around her, his hand just centimetres from where the diary rested.

Tom merely nodded at Cy as he, too, came out from behind the memorial and stood slightly behind Tom. When Hermione glanced at him quickly, she saw how his eyes drifted down to the hidden diary and then back up to her in worry.

Tom's hand shifted, his fingers brushing against the diary. Hermione's panicked eyes shot up to meet his before she could stop herself. The coincidental location of the cemetery, her and Cy's presence, the blown up memorial… the evidence was stacked far too high for him not to piece it together.

Hermione had always figured that the series of events that lead up to her events would go by slowly, each detail being weighed and measured in her mind. As it was, the events were so blurred that she could barely focus on one item.

Cy's slight twitch, hand reaching upward…

Abraxas' wand hoisted up, his mouth shaping to the words…

Tom cursing, his arms wrapping around her as he pushed them both out of the way…

Her hip hit the ground hard, her head crashing soon after. A hurt cry escaped her as she instinctively curled up on the ground, the sounds of the battle raging over head. The growl above her alerted her that Tom had yet to join the battle.

"For Merlin's sake, Hermione, just stay here," he hissed, his eyes trained on the fight. "I don't know what you're doing here, but we'll discuss it later. Just stay here."

Hermione frowned as she watched him quickly rise and rush to join Cy. She ran her hand along the inside of her robe, a sigh of relief escaping when her fingers brushed against the leather of the diary. With that, she gripped her wand tighter in her hand.

Hermione Granger was never one to break down for a fight, and she certainly wasn't going to now simply because he had ordered her to. She stood, her legs shaking slightly -from nerves, she figured, and slowly manoeuvred herself for a better shot.

"_Expelliarmus!_"

Hermione ducked the red beam of light that was thrown her way in retaliation of her own spell. She dodged the second, as well as the third, but wasn't quite so lucky on the fourth. The blue beam grazed her thigh, leaving an angry welt that throbbed quite painfully.

"Get out of here."

She looked up to see Cy looming over her, casting spell after spell to protect them. She glowered up at him as she waved her wand over the wound on her leg, stopping the blood flow. "I'm not running away."

"Damn it, Hermione," he growled, leaning down to grab hold of her arm. "You need to go and destroy that thing. You stay here and we might as well give up."

She glowered up at him as she replied acidly, "We'll find a way when this is all over. Right now, I'm staying. I refuse to leave you and Tom here alone."

He gritted his jaw like he wanted to say something else, but simply gave her a curt nod. "Just don't get hit," was all he said before returning to the fight.

Hermione didn't think as she simply allowed the spells to roll off her tongue in rapid succession. She grumbled under her breath as she barely dogged another spell thrown her way. She glared up at the man, she thought he was Rosier but she wasn't completely sure, and quickly cast some spells at him, sending him flying into a tombstone.

Hermione fought to regain her breath as she quickly dodged and flipped repeatedly. She was completely out of shape. She had been lax in actually doing any sort of workout since travelling to the past.

All thoughts were lost as another foe stepped in front of her, wand raised. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tom throw a spell in the direction of the man she was fighting.

"Pay attention to your own fight, Tom," she yelled, glowering at him briefly. "I can take care of myself. I've been in worse situations."

He growled but didn't say anything as he took on two. For being vastly outnumbered, they were holding their own quite well. Tom's fighting skills were just as Hermione had always suspected- superb, but Cy's magnificent duelling was a surprise.

Hermione growled low in her throat as her opponent doubled his efforts. She decided to cheat slightly, shouting, "_Expelliarmus_," while thinking the incantation to the Hives Hex. She smiled as the man cried out in surprise, clutching his face.

Her wand waved quickly while he was distracted, stunning and tying him up with thick rope. She didn't have much time to celebrate her victory for another Death Eater merely stepped up to take his place, fighting her.

Hermione cried out in fright when she watched as Cy fell to one knee, clutching his abdomen as he glared at the man facing him. Hermione glanced over and frowned when she saw Orion standing there smirking.

It was Sirius' death all over again. Relative facing relative, each preparing for the final blow. She saw the same cockiness in Orion's face, and the serenity yet playfulness in Cy's.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head as she took off at a dead run. She roughly shoved past Rookwood as she ignored the beams of light flying past her. "Cy," she muttered as she ploughed into him, knocking him to the ground just as Orion cast the killing curse.

"Aren't you glad I stayed now?" Hermione groaned before hefting herself off him and aiming her wand at Orion who no longer stood alone. "Just great."

"We meet again," Abraxas drawled mockingly. He stood, smirking, beside Orion with their wands drawn. "Only this time, only one of us will be walking away."

"I shall tell your wife goodbye for you," Hermione returned smartly, rising swiftly to her feet. She didn't shift her eyes as she heard Cy rise beside her.

Abraxas chuckled. "I do not think that will be necessary, although I don't believe I shall return the courtesy." His gaze drifted darkly to Tom who was still duelling. "I believe there shall be one more death tonight."

"Leave Tom out of this," Hermione growled.

"Ah, but Hermione, you're the one that brought him into this." He launched then, as did Orion, and Hermione got separated from Cy.

Hermione duelled hard, matching his every curse with one of her own. She didn't dare to break her concentration as the sweat rolled down her face. She growled at him as he took a cheap shot at her.

Abraxas chuckled maliciously. "_Serpensortia_!"

Hermione stumbled back as the abnormally large snake came at her. She had seen this spell once before, her second year, but that snake was nothing compared to this one. The snake's mouth parted slightly, revealing long fangs.

"Hermione."

Tom's voice seemed so far away as she stared fearfully at the snake. She wanted to run, but her feet wouldn't move. The snake was advancing on her slowly, it's tongue flicking out every now and then to taste her scent on the air.

"Hermione."

The voice was more urgent this time, almost pleading for her to run or to try to protect herself. The voice reached her, but she couldn't find the ability to obey it.

"Hermione, you have to move." Tom was closer now. "Move."

Hermione eyes flittered over to Tom who kept glancing at her while he duelled. He kept mouthing, 'Move,' to her but she just closed her eyes and turned back to the snake that was bearing down on her.

Just as the snake struck, Hermione's body shifted on its own, her hand reaching down to grab the diary and hold it before her as the heat of the snake's mouth wrapped around her.

The world froze as she kneeled on the ground, the diary held up like some sort of shield. Flashes of every battle she had ever been involved in, of Quidditch matches where she would cheer on Harry and Ron, of the late night trouble she got into with the two boys went through her mind as she waited for death.

Death didn't come. Instead, she felt the trickle of a gooey liquid down her arms. She let out a shaky breath as her eyes opened, staring at the point where the fang had pierced the diary.

"Hermione." Tom's hands landed on her waist as he pulled her to him. The snake vanished as the destroyed diary dropped from her fingers. He looked at her for a second, his hands cupping her face, but then his eyes dropped to the diary.

His hands moved down to her arms in painful grips. Hermione glanced over quickly and saw Abraxas lying on the ground, a trail of blood flowing from his unconscious body. She didn't see Cy in her quick glance around. She only hoped that meant he was okay.

"How many?" Tom growled, squeezing her arms painfully.

She knew better than to lie to him. It would be useless now anyway, since he had discovered what she had been doing. "All of them," she replied softly. "All six."

He growled, jerking her closer to him. "Is this what you were doing with Dumbledore?" He bent down, glaring down at her. "Is this what you were doing all those times when you would slip out? Is this what you were talking about when you spoke of secrets?"

"Yes."

She watched as a variation of emotions crossed his face. He flung her away from him suddenly with a loud curse, whipping his wand out before she even registered what was happening. He jabbed the tip of his wand under her chin, forcing her head up.

"All this time, you were planning on killing me, weren't you?"

Her voice wavered as she answered, "I had to." The wand left her throat, only to be pressed hard against her chest, over her heart. "Tom."

"Don't," he growled. "Do you know what I do to traitors, hellcat?"

She didn't answer as her fingers itched down toward her wand. She would have to act quickly. She had never actually fought him, as Voldemort or Tom. She had watched him, though, when he had fought and she knew how good a dueller he was.

"You should never have betrayed me, Hermione. I would have protected you and made you my Queen," he growled. "Now," he shook his hand, "now I can't let you live."

"I'm sorry," she said, determined to keep her voice from shaking as she shifted in preparation to fight. At his small frown, she kicked out, her foot connecting with his shin. She rolled away as he cursed and lifted up her wand, immediately.

It took all her focus to stay alive as Tom returned every one of her spells. She was forced to perform some of the manoeuvres they had trained starting her fifth year and up. She waved her wand out to the side, attracting his attention long enough to perform some wandless magic with her left hand, knocking him back.

He gripped his wand tighter as his eyes flashed red. She would have been stupid to not know what he was going to do next. He had that look on his face; the one she had seen on Voldemort's when he was preparing to kill her in her own time.

"_Ava-"_

"_Avada Kedavra!_" Hermione shouted, the burst of green light leaving her wand before she knew it. Her aim was true, hitting him directly in the chest. Red eyes flashed back to green as they met hers before glazing over as he fell down to the ground at the head of his father's grave.

**DUCKS Don't kill me just yet! There's one more chapter to go!...**


	20. Epilogue

**DISCLAIMER: Don't own it! **

**Thank you to Curse Weaver for sticking it out with me and betaing for me... Thanks to all the reviewers who, hopefully, won't kill me.**

**And now... THE END!!**

**Epilogue**

_I would hurl words into this darkness and wait for an echo, and if an echo sounded, no matter how faintly, I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight, to create a sense of hunger for life that gnaws in us all. Richard Wright, American Hunger, 1977_

The sun was just rising into the sky on the morning that Hermione had been anxiously waiting for. She set, the rocking chair slowly moving back and forth, staring out the second story window. Sitting on her lap, encased in dark leather, was a photo album with intricate weavings of ivy down the spine. It had been a gift, a long time ago.

The wind jostled the top of the trees outside the window. A few stars still twinkled up in the sky, among them some of the stars in Andromeda, Orion, and even Sirius was there, shining brightly despite the lightening of the sky.

She opened the front cover of the album and unfolded the letter Minerva had sent her almost eleven years ago. She had only read it that once, and then had folded it up and placed it within the album which, for the most part, remained unopened.

The letter contained the news she had been waiting for. She had expressed her wish to not become involved, so Minerva had volunteered to keep her informed. Funny, though, once Hermione _had_ received the news, she suddenly wished she had not. It was, she found, better to remain in the dark sometimes.

The letter was tucked in a pocket inside the album as she flipped the page to a number of pictures spanning over that first year. It had been the hardest, at first at least, but later she had discovered that a person can survive, as long as they make that choice.

"_Hermione…"_

"_Don't, Cy." Hermione pulled the covers higher over her as she sank into the bed. The pillows still smelled of him faintly. The sheets had long since lost his scent, but she could still find it in the pillows. _

"_Hermione." The bed, his side of the bed, depressed as Cy set down beside her, pulling the top of the cover down so he could see her face. "This isn't healthy. It's been four months." He ran his fingers through some stray locks that had escaped her braid. "Let me take you out to dinner, or at least just outside."_

"_I'm tired" She closed her eyes against the harsh light he had let in. "Turn the light off, Cy."_

_He settled in beside her, pulling the covers away from her slowly. "It's called daylight, Hermione, I can't turn it off." His thumb ran over her cheek, brushing away a stray tear that had slipped from her eye. "It had to be done," he whispered, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her closer to him. "You did the right thing."_

_Eyes opened slowly, staring up at him through foggy brown orbs. "Did I?" Her lower lips trembled slightly as another tear fell, but no more than those traitorous two. _

"_Yes, love." He kissed the top of her nose, smiling at her as he held her tightly. "Yes, you did."_

Two months later, he talked her into going out on their first "official" date. She had ended up telling him everything that night, every single thing from her past - the future- and her present - the past. He had listened, only sipping at his wine while listening, and then had simply said, "Alright."

Just that… "Alright." No questions, no doubts, just… "Alright." It was slightly unnerving; she was used to questions.

Four months after their first date, after Hermione had finally accepted the fact that there was no way for her to get back to her own time, Cy had proposed. She had adamantly refused at first, informing him smartly that there was no way she was going to risk the timeline like that, and then had stormed off in a huff. Later, when he had finally caught up with her, he simply took her chin in his hand, forced her to look up at him, and asked her how the timeline could possibly still be the same after she had killed Tom.

She had accepted, after much cajoling and reasoning from not only Cy, but Richard and Minerva too. They had married a mere two months later, neither wanting a big, formal wedding. Richard, surprisingly, had proposed to Minerva there. Hermione had had her suspicions about them, but neither had confirmed them so the whole thing was a surprise to everyone present. The last picture on the page was of Minerva's and Richard's wedding. He lived at their small house some ways away from Hogwarts now, but Minerva always made time to go home every evening to see him if he couldn't come to the castle for the night.

She flipped through the pages slowly, savoring each moving picture. There were ones of Quidditch games, ones of parties, and even a random few of her and Cy when he had convinced her to take a hiking trip with him through some of the Alps in northern Italy. He was grinning like a fool in them, while she was bent over slightly trying to catch her breath.

She stopped on the next page, trailing her fingers down the page.

_Hermione folded her arms over her chest. Cy stood in the doorway, a rose in one hand and a brand new book in the other. His lips turned up slowly in a smile, a nervous chuckle escaping him as he stepped further into the room and closed the door behind him._

"_I'm sorry?"_

_Hermione growled before picking up one of the throw pillows off the couch and throwing it at him, hitting him on the shoulder. "You better be sorry, Cygnus Black."_

_He grinned then, approaching her slowly as one would an animal that they didn't want to spook. "Hermione," he said, his voice soft, "you know you're not mad."_

"_Cy," she started, huffing softly, "this wasn't supposed to happen."_

_He stopped in front of her, reaching up and letting the petals skim down her cheek. "Sure it was, love." He leaned forward, nuzzling her neck softly. _

"_No, it wasn't," she argued. "Hell, Cy, we weren't even supposed to happen." She waited until he looked up to say, "I've messed it all up."_

_He chuckled as he drew her against him, reaching behind her to place the book on the mantle place. "How do you know this isn't what was meant to happen?" He nipped at her ear lobe and gave her a squeeze. He ran his hand down over her back and around to rest against her stomach. "This is not something to be upset over."_

"_You don't understand, Cy." She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. "I know those timelines by heart and no where is there a slot with 'Cygnus Black-Hermione Granger' with a line extending from them."_

"_We created that line."_

The baby in the picture was sleeping peacefully, her little fingers curling around the short black hairs sprouting from her head. Little Bellatrix. Cy had wanted to name her something else after all the stories Hermione had told him, but she had insisted on the name. She told him it wasn't the name that made her evil, it was the world she was placed within.

Bella wasn't the evil woman she remembered. She was still sorted into Slytherin- Hermione had teased Cy that it was all his fault for that- and she still married Lestrange, but she didn't convert to the Dark Arts. She actually had a child, a little boy named Gaius.

The next few pages were spattered with pictures of her other two daughters, Andromeda and Narcissa. Hermione refused to enter into negotiations for marriage contracts and allowed her daughters to pick their own husbands. Andromeda had still married Ted Tonks and they lived just down the street. Narcissa, not forced to marry Lucius Malfoy, stilled marry him, but this time as her own choice. Draco, she found, was a little more bearable.

"_Bella, be nice to your sister." Hermione placed one hand on her hip and her other was in the air, her finger pointing straight at her oldest daughter. _

"_But, Mum," Bella started, the lower lip starting to tremble slightly- the moved worked on her father, but not so much her mother- as she stared up at her, "Cissa stole my broom from my room. She messed up the tail…"_

"_She's only three, Bella, she doesn't know any better." Hermione relaxed as she reached out and ran her hand down Bella's black locks. "Why don't you take her out back and let her ride with you, but not too high."_

_Bella stared at her before glancing over at Cissa who was hiding behind the couch, just her brown curls and grey eyes showing. Bella's mouth turned down in a frown. Finally, she sighed loudly and huffed, "Fine."_

_Cissa came bounding from behind the couch and threw her arms around her older sister. Bella patted her head a couple of times before taking her hand and leading her toward the back door. _

"_Not too high!" Hermione shouted after them. She waited till she heard the door shut before walking toward the fireplace and sitting in the chair opposite of her middle daughter. Andromeda had her dark brown curls pull back in a braid while her brown eyes roved over the words on the page in front of her. Hermione smiled. "Do you want to go outside with your sisters too?"_

_She shook her head. She closed her book and looked up at Hermione. "Don't tell Dad, but I don't really like flying."_

_Hermione chuckled and she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her nose. "That's alright, pumpkin, I don't like it either." She stood and held her hand out to her daughter. "Come help me with dinner."_

Hermione ran her finger down each page as she took in each picture. One of the pages that she came across featured pictures of her and Cy on her thirty-fourth birthday. Minerva and Richard had volunteered to watch the girls the week of her birthday. She should have had her suspicions then, but Cy continued to charm her right up to the day when he met her at the door with two suitcases. She had protested to the blindfold, but he had still whisked her away.

They had spent six days between Ireland and Sweeden. She had been surprised that he had remembered her mentioning that she had always wanted to go there. They spent their days exploring the ruins and immersing themselves in the cultures. Cy had loved the taverns in Ireland.

They had went back for her fortieth birthday. This time they had stayed for almost two weeks. Cy had purchased a tiny cottage in Ireland for them to continue to vacation in over the summer. They hired an older married couple to watch after the place when they weren't there. Mr. and Mrs. McCabe loved their little plot of land.

"_Mrs. McCabe?" Hermione dusted her dirt covered hands against the apron she had bought the previous day. She glanced around the small garden, frowning when she didn't see the other woman. "Mrs. McCabe?"_

_The slightly older woman with red hair dusted with grey came around the stone wall. She had her apron pulled up and filled with potato sprouts. She smiled when she saw Hermione, kneeling in the dirt, her face almost brown from wiping it with her hands so much. _

"_You'll want to clean up, mum, before the men come back. You look a sight."_

_Hermione frowned as she cocked her head slightly, considering the other woman's words. Suddenly, she gasped and clasped her hands to her face before quickly wiping at it._

"_You're only making it worse, Mrs.. Why don't you go inside and wash while I finish this?" Mrs. McCabe knelt beside her, allowing the sprouts to roll out onto the ground. "It won't take me long."_

_Hermione stared at the sprouts on the ground and then looked down at her hands, still caked in dirt. She glanced up at the other woman, a determined glint in her eye as she stated firmly, "No, I'm going to learn how to do this."_

_An hour later found Hermione with dirt everywhere and Mrs. McCabe mostly clean. The sprouts had all be put in the ground though and given a little water. Hermione stood back from the garden and ran her hand through her hair. She would have to take a long shower to get all that dirt out._

"_There," she said with a satisfied nod._

"_Did you take a roll in the dirt?"_

_Hermione turned, eyes wide, to stare at Cy and Mr. McCabe who appeared to be trying not to laugh. "Cy…what are you doing home already?"_

_Cy walked over to her, but made sure to keep out of reaching distance as he eyed the dirt coating her. "It's four, love." He smiled and leaned in to give her a quick peck on the lips, one of the few places not covered. _

"_Already?"_

_Cy nodded, grinning. "Already." He let his eyes run down her form. "Why don't you take a dunk in the river while I fix dinner?"_

"_I might just do that." Hermione grinned mischievously as she glanced at Mrs. McCabe who was grinning before launching herself at Cy. Wrapping her arms tightly around him, she rubbed herself up against him, smearing him with dirt. "But only if you'll join me."_

Hermione smiled and flipped the page. The rest of the photos showed the girls during their years at Hogwarts, their weddings, and their families. A few even featured Sirius, who simply loved to stay at the house for long periods of time. Regulus came quite a lot as well, though he spent most of his time trying to please that evil mother of his. Cy visited them sometimes, but Hermione absolutely refused to go see them.

Sirius was a handful. He had asked her once if he could move in, and she had been tempted to say yes. After discussing it over with Cy, they had told him to try sticking it out just a little longer and if the situation didn't change, then he could have the extra room. He had moved into the Potter's house soon after.

Hermione stared at the youthful face on the page. Everything had ended differently for them all. Peter had never had the chance to go evil and, without Tom around to become Voldemort, James and Lily never had to go on the run. Harry had both of his parents with him now, and everything was as it should had been in the first place.

"_SIRIUS BLACK!"_

_The black hair teen spun around, his mischievous eyes batting up at her. "Yes, Aunt Hermione?" He rocked idly on his heels, smiling up at her in a way that he knew would win his Uncle over. He had yet to learn that Hermione was immune to it._

"_What did you do to Bella's hair?" Hermione placed her hands on her hips as she stared down at the teenager. He would be going off to complete his third year at Hogwarts this year and already he had a record that was unbelievable._

"_You have to admit, it looks-"_

"_Sirius."_

"_Right….sorry." He smiled despite himself just as James came running into the room, crashing into him. The other boy obviously hadn't seen her because he grabbed Sirius by the shoulders with a large smile._

"_Did you see it, mate? BRILLIANT!" James ignored Sirius' less than discreet cough as he continued with a wide grin. "You were right. It is the perfect charm to do on Snivellus. Wonder how long it's…oh…er…"_

_Hermione raised her brow as James finally saw her and started to stammer. "Yes?" James turned a nice shade of red as he slowly stepped backward, trying to hide behind Sirius who kept shoving him forward. "One of you better know how to reverse it."_

_Sirius scratched his head lightly while continuing to grin up at her. "Well, you see, we haven't quite got to that part yet…"_

"_Sirius," Cy said as he stuck his head through the doorway, glancing quickly at Hermione before looking back at the boys._

"_Yes, Uncle Cy?"_

"_Run."_

Hermione closed the photo album as she heard footsteps on the stairs. She leaned back against the chair, rocking it slowly. "In here," she called when she heard her name.

Cy wrapped his arms around her as he entered the room. He kissed her cheek. "Cissa is downstairs waiting on you, love." He leaned forward over the chair and picked up the album. Chuckling softly, he moved around in front of her to lean against the window. "I haven't looked at this in quite a while."

"Hard to believe that Draco and Gaius are already heading off to Hogwarts." Hermione sighed as she ran a hand through her hair. "I would be going off to Hogwarts this year too, you know. I always knew this day would come, but I didn't think I would feel like this."

"Like what?"

Hermione stared up at him for a long moment, merely drinking him in. She drew in a deep breath, and then let it out slowly. "Like it's just any other day," she finally answered. "Like it doesn't matter at all. Indifferent, really."

Cy knelt in front of her, placing the book down on the floor beside him as he picked her hands up in his. "It doesn't matter, Hermione, not really. This is where you belong."

Hermione smiled, leaning forward to kiss him, her lips lingering there for a minute. "I'm finally starting to realize that."

Cy smiled at her as he stood, pulling her up as well. "Go on and join Cissa. She said that Draco has been pacing his room for the past hour asking if they could come get you already so they could leave. Put him out of his misery."

**o!o**

Hermione rested her hands on Gaius' shoulders as they stood watching all the children rushing to the train. Bella and Cissa were over talking to some of their old school mates. Draco and Gaius, though neither would admit it, were hesitant to dive into the crowd.

"Hey Auntie." An arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her into a warm body. "When am I going to get invited over for one of those lovely dinners of yours?"

Hermione smiled up at Sirius. "You know you have a permanent invitation, young man." Hermione leaned against him, reaching up to ruffle his hair playfully. "Why haven't you settled down already, Sirius? You know I'd love a couple more kids."

"Uncle Cy better get to work then, shouldn't he?" Sirius returned playfully.

"Oh, hush you." Hermione swatted him playfully. "You do realize that most of your school mates already have steady families."

"Remus doesn't."

"Just find someone, Sirius." Hermione patted his cheek lightly. "Remus needs this same speech, too. You both just need to settle down and be happy."

"Yes, Auntie." Sirius smiled at her playfully as he leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Take care, Auntie, I'm going to go find James. He's trying to calm Harry's nerves." Sirius ruffled both Draco's and Gaius' hair before dashing off

Hermione smiled at the two boys. She knew that Draco still stood a great chance at being sorted into Slytherin, but Gaius stood a great chance of being sorted into Ravenclaw. "Come on, let's get your stuff on the train."

Hermione maneuvered them through the throng of eager students and parents. They found an empty compartment surprisingly easily and stuffed their trunks inside. Hermione saw James and Lily pushing Harry toward the train and waved at them.

It was only after Gaius and Draco had both boarded the train and she was turning that she caught sight of something that gave her pause. There, at the very end of the platform just outside of the train was a boy and a girl. The girl had bushy brown hair and buck teeth. She held two books tightly in her arms while smiling at the boy.

Her…

But it wasn't her younger self that gave her pause. At that moment, the boy turned to look at her. Slightly pale skin adorned the lean frame of the dark haired boy. Dark green eyes sparkled as they turned toward her, staring her straight in the eye almost defiantly. And as he turned away, pulling his trunk onto the train, she just caught the name stamped on the side.

_Tom._

_finis_


	21. Author’s Prerogative

**A Look Into Disaster's Sweet Seduction**

_**Author's Prerogative: **__I will probably get in trouble for this somewhere down the line, but I figured it might just be worth it in order to clear up a few things. I am ecstatic that DSS received such a warm response that I don't even think I could begin to thank you guys enough. DSS was my baby for the longest time and part of the reason that it took me so long to update is that I was always reading back over the chapters to make sure they were perfect. I felt that the ending presented in Chapter 19 was justified. I spent many hours reading hours just toiling over a fitting ending, and I believed I achieved creating an ending that would suit the characters. With saying that, I turned around and slapped an ending on the Epilogue that left me with a choice of doing a sequel or not._

_That being said…_

_At the present moment, no sequel is planned. There are many reasons for this. One: I am a Creative Writing major and, heading into my final years, my time is monopolized with creating works of original fiction. I have many short works that literally clog my mind 24/7 with thoughts about how to improve them so that maybe one day they'll be published. I also have a (possible) novel on the rocks. I have started it and, yes, it will be Fantasy-ish (I put the "ish" in there because it will contain many aspects of the Fantasy genre, but it will be more directed toward Young Adult-- think Eragon meets Lord of the Rings). Two: Since I love DSS so much, I'm terrified that if I venture down the path of a sequel, that it will actually end up like my Kismet trilogy, abandoned and alone. I don't know whether I could do it justice and so that is something to think over. Three: Life. One word about sums that up. Life gets in the way…family, work, school._

_HOWEVER, don't think I'm throwing out all possibility of a sequel. I'm actually considering doing a long-ish one shot feature young Hermione and young Tom. The one shot would pretty much stretch from first meeting to…you honestly didn't think I was going to tell you how that ends, now did you?_

_Now, on to another topic. An explanation of the ending. I have long since held the belief that what is meant to happen __will__ find a way to happen. Hermione went back and killed Tom, but there needed to be a reaction to the action…cause and effect. Tom was meant to grow up and be evil. The world needed that time of turmoil and destruction, and so… No matter what Hermione did (i.e. Killing Tom), there was still not going to be an escape from a future of destruction. It merely moved to a different generation. Would young Dark Voldie get killed like an older Dark Voldie would? Probably, but the sequence of events have to fall in place in order to restore the equilibrium. I hope that makes sense._

_If there are any questions, please direct them toward my Live Journal (link is provided in profile)… I will be posting this there as well so just comment and I will be more than happy to answer any and all questions…to a reasonable extent. _

_Again, thank you for reading. It has been a pleasure traveling this journey with you._


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